


once in a blue moon

by PKJJ



Series: once in a blue moon au [1]
Category: Phandom, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: AU, Accidental Cuddling, Airports, Anxiety, Bakery, Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual!Dan, Broken Bones, Cats, Comfort, Coming Out, Confessions, Confused/Hurt Kisses, Dan Howell's Live Shows, Dancer!Phil, Depression, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Shenanigans, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Forehead Kisses, Friends to Lovers, Gay male characters, Hair Dyeing, Hate Crimes, Hospitals, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Instagram Stories, Learning a New Language, Love Confessions, M/M, Met Gala 2018, Mistletoe, Movie Night, Nicknames, No Smut, Past Relationship(s), Piano, Platonic Affection, Platonic Cuddling, Protectiveness, Sexuality Crisis, Sleeping Together, Sleepovers, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, Southbank Centre Wintertime Market, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Tattoos, Teasing, Tension, Threats, award shows, baker!Dan, christmas fairs and markets, dan has a crush and doesn't know what to do, french!phil, gay!phil, phil can fight, preformances, singer!phil, world tours
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-12
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-08-17 00:31:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 65,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16505687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PKJJ/pseuds/PKJJ
Summary: CURRENTLY ON HIATUS"Hey, Dan. Isn't that..." Troye trailed off, glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.Dan's throat felt tight, and he had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "Take this one for me?" He muttered, ducking down and dashing back to the kitchen.Ok. Yep. It was him. luustr.Eyes, blue for miles. They pierced your soul when he looked at you, lids lowered in a way that could make you feel many different emotions. Hair that was dyed black, messily brushed up into a quiff.Now he was here. Troye was confused. Why? "Welcome to Blue Moon, can I get you anything today?"- -Or, the bakerxsinger au where childhood friends Dan and Troye own a popular bakery in downtown London called Blue Moon. Phil Lester (aka luustr), a famous pop sensation, is visiting Britian for three months from Paris.Friendships, drama, and relationships ensue.CURRENTLY ON HIATUS





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> troye is a responsible, yet wayward, young adult. he pushes dan to do the best he can.
> 
> dan, on the other hand, procrasitnates and falls alseep in his lecture class. he makes really good Moon Rocks though.
> 
> troye will attacc with a spatula  
> i'm excited about this au, i hope you enjoy! 
> 
> i don't have a set number of chapters yet, so we'll see where this goes
> 
> \----French in this chapter----  
> -Je vois: I see  
> -Il a fait ce bon muffin. Mignon: He made me this good muffin. Cute.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> troye is a responsible, yet wayward, young adult. he pushes dan to do the best he can.
> 
> dan, on the other hand, procrasitnates and falls alseep in his lecture class. he makes really good Moon Rocks though.
> 
> troye will attacc with a spatula
> 
> i'm excited about this au, i hope you enjoy!
> 
> i don't have a set number of chapters yet, so we'll see where this goes
> 
> \----French in this chapter----  
> -Je vois: I see  
> -Il a fait ce bon muffin. Mignon: He made me this good muffin. Cute.

It was late, and Dan was tired.

-

Blue Moon (in correlation to its night-like theme) stayed open until midnight, to catch any last customers. Or maybe it was just for the aesthetics. Dan was a slut for aesthetics. Yep, it was definitely that.

Some days he hated the fact that it was him who had chosen the bakery's hours. He was taking a few classes at a Cookery School at Little Portland Street, to fine-tune his skills. He was already a talented baker for his age, and it was quite obvious he'd been doing this since day one. That meant that on top of baking batches of cookies, brownies, and whatever else they made (Dan was too tired right now to remember every single little detail), he often had homework to deal with, resulting in him pulling all-nighters, oversleeping, being late to work, or worst of all, skip classes. The teachers there hated it when he did that, though they partially understood. One of them even helped him sort out the financial side of his business, Dan was never good with numbers.

He's forever grateful that Troye is here. That Troye always put up with his ass, from the time they were in kindergarten, throughout the cursed high school years (never to be spoken of again), to now, here. To be honest, they'd both been quite drunk when Troye pitched the idea of a bakery; even if they'd stayed up late in high school making treats for friends, starting a bakery sounded daunting. But in the aftermath of his hangover, he'd remembered what Troye had said, and the idea was stuck in his head until he finally told one of his professors, and they liked the idea so much that they helped him look for a vacant space, buy it, and even offered to help manage the financial side.

Now Blue Moon was here, and they were quite proud of themselves. At first, they'd had a bit of an "argument" (that was an overstatement. Dan liked to exaggerate), but after a few hours had reached an agreement on what it should look like. Dan loved to creep Troye out by calling it their love child, but truth be told, that's what it was.

Dark, smooth, shiny floors; swept every night. A deep smoky-grey coloured the walls, Troye's photographs of London and various other cities at night hung proudly on them. The windows were all at the front of the shop, long floor-to-window ones with various neon signs hanging. The tall, dark wood counter faced the door, the glass case with the baked goods inside sitting on a smaller counter right next to it. Tables and chairs were scattered throughout the room, plush and monotonous. Hardback chairs and their matching tables dominated the center space, booths lining the walls. Cacti and succulents decorated almost every surface, some of them in bloom. Troye had complained that it was too dark, and he'd gone and secretly bought lights to line the edges of the room. "It brightens it up, Dan!" He'd said. During the day, they usually went off of the sunlight that streamed in, giving Blue Moon a more natural feel. At night, however, was when all the neon lights came on, giving everything an "aesthetic glow". So much so that their bakery was a hotspot for Instagrammers, so many until Troye got tired and ruled that they could take pictures if they were also here to buy something.

That cut the number of flashing cameras in half, though neither was complaining.

At the back of the store, close to the counter, was what Troye called the "Netflix and Shhh" because that was where all the comfy chairs, piles of pillows and stacks of blankets were. Maybe it wasn't that hygienic, but no one ever complained or said anything, so it stayed. People liked to come and relax there, sometimes working on uni assignments (Dan could tell by their expressions, he'd been there and still was), sometimes watching movies, but occasionally they'd get one or two people who'd slept, and as long as they didn't bother anyone, but Dan didn't normally let anyone sleep past two hours, and they had to ask permission first. They were usually uni students, in need of a quick nap after a long day of (useless) lectures.

Dan's favourite part of the store (that wasn't the kitchen) was the wall behind the counter. It had a custom-made neon lineart sign of the moon cycle, all laid out in a perfect line, (left to right) from new moon to waxing crescent, to first quarter, waxing gibbous, full moon, waning gibbous, third quarter, to waxing crescent. Right under, in small lowercase letters, was blue moon. It had cost a fortune, but all 307 euros had been worth it. He loved to stand behind the counter, taking orders while the white glow framed him from behind.

-

But it was late, and Dan had a test tomorrow that he'd procrastinated on studying for that he hadn't studied for at all. "History of Food as Art, my ass." He muttered sullenly, letting his chin drop into his hands. He wasn't in the best mood, today hadn't gone too well. He'd slept late, which meant he couldn't drink his morning tea (a very important step in the Morning Routine of Daniel Howell), dropped a batch of freshly-baked scones on the ground (which he'd shed a few tears, Troye had caught him. Hey, they were his favourite! What else do you do when you drop a fresh-out-of-the-oven-batch of Moon Scones?), and then had to tell a very picky customer that they didn't sell coffee. In which they'd blown up in his face, threatening to leave bad reviews.

He could care less.

As Dan looked around, Troye joined him from the kitchen. The smell of chocolate cookies wafted up, and he sighed in contentment. Those were also his favourite. Moon Rocks, he'd called them. Dark chocolate batter with chocolate chips mixed in, lumped unevenly on the sheet and baked. It wasn't anything too special, but if you ate them right after they finished baking, the outside would be slightly crispy, while the inside was soft and slightly gooey from the melting chocolate chips. Powdered sugar optional. 

"Hey, Troye. Can we close up early today?" Troye checked his phone. "It's only 11:30. Why? Does it have anything to do with...studying?" Dan smiled disarmingly, internally freaking out.  _Crap. He knows._

Dan was 28, it wasn't uncommon for people his age to go to uni. Troye was the one who encouraged (read: peer-pressured) him into going to uni. Funny thing was, Troye was 23, yet had no plans to go back to school. Dan had tried to "encourage" him right back as soon as he got his acceptance letter, but he'd just been hit with a spatula. That was the end of that.

"Eheheheh, well..." Dan trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. Troye sighed, eyes lowered in an "I knew it" expression. "What is the test on, Dan?"

"History of Food as Art." Troye's expression was priceless, Dan had to laugh. "What the fuck is that, Dan?" He continued laughing. "Mate, I have no clue. You were the one who encouraged me to take these courses-" Troye advanced with his spatula, dropping into a poised crouch. "Watch that mouth, Daniel. I am not to blame.  _You_ chose that class. I chose the course." He tiptoed forward, if it could even be called tiptoeing. His "weapon" was held above his head and he looked like a crab. Dan laughed loudly again, doubling over. "What?"

"Y-You look like a fucking crab, mate," he gasped, snorting with laughter. "Should I name my next video that?  _Troye the crab._ " Troye dropped his stance, now lunging forward and smacking Dan with the spatula. "Ew ew ew, you know I hate that sound!" He whined, trying to fend him off. "Exactly. That's why I do it."

Dan finally caught Troye's wrist, wrestling the spatula out of his hands and grabbing his other wrist. They continued to tussle until Dan gained the upper hand and used his (significantly) bigger muscles to shove Troye against the back wall. Bathed in a pale neon glow and breathing heavy, to anyone else it would've looked like something straight out of a quality porn video. To them, it was just playing. They stayed silent, catching their breath. Troye broke the silence.

"This is gay."

Dan snorted. "And we aren't?" He deadpanned.

Troye raised an eyebrow. "You're not lying. Now let me go. You want to pass this test, I'll help you study your food-is-art shit."

Dan rolled his eyes and released his friend. He'd never envied Troye in anything except for the fact that he was out and proud. People knew he was gay, and people accepted him. Dan wasn't. Dan wasn't gay, he was bisexual, maybe with a small bias for guys. But he had more than his family, friends, and the people who came into Blue Moon everyday who would accept or reject him if he came out. He had a huge audience of 6.5+ million people who were currently subscribed to him on YouTube, not to mention the 8+ million he had on Twitter and 5+ million on Instagram. He knew the majority of his audience were/supported LGBT+, and they'd seen the tweets he'd put out before when something big happened in the community. He was absolutely sure that they had their suspicions that he wasn't entirely straight, but most of them didn't push him on it. He wanted to come out on his own time, and he knew most would accept him. But he was afraid of the hate, of the backlash. He was afraid of rejection. He wanted to please everyone.

_But you can't. Remember what happened last time you tried to do that?_

Dan physically shook himself out of his thoughts, pushing those memories even further back in his head. He hoped he would never have to think about that time again.

"Dan. You good?" Troye had noticed his expression. He nodded, smiling weakly. "Yeah. Just thinking." Troye knew where Dan had been in his head. "Deep breaths, remember? Think of something that calms you. That makes you happy." Dan was slightly annoyed, he didn't have time for this, but he knew he had to do it.

_Freedom. Peace. Their arms wrapped around you, so warm and comforting that you can let your guard down. You can hug them, you can run your fingers through their hair when they sleep and whisper in their ear that you love them, and they whisper back that they love you too._

Dan resurfaced, blinking his eyes open. He liked his little world inside his head. He created it (with Troye's help) and he retreated there when he was anxious or sad. He missed his little world, knowing he'd probably be alone forever. No one stuck around after they got past his charming first impression and found his real personality, made of sarcasm, dark jokes, and an overall pessimistic outlook on life. They didn't want to deal with a mess like him. He'd gone through many people, boys and girls alike, but they didn't want to stay with him long because of his job. He was a YouTuber, so that meant drama. He couldn't be seen with someone romantically in public for fear of a fan spotting him and assuming things, or spreading the news, and both him and his partner would be constantly bothered. They always felt like he didn't truly love them, that he was afraid or just using them.

Every single time when they would whisper an "I love you" to him, he couldn't bring himself to respond. He  _couldn't,_ so he just smiled in return. They'd get tired of him eventually, he knew that.

Why say it if you didn't mean it? For him, it just leads to unnecessary heartbreak.

-

It was 11:45, so close to closing time. "Fifteen more minutes, Dan. Then you can study."

Troye was at the glass display, going through the various baked goods. Dan always liked to tease him about that, how he went through it every night, checking for stale or damaged ones. Usually they left things out for a max of two days before either giving them away for free or donating them to one of the nearby shelters. Troye loved anything that made him feel like a better person.

Dan got out his phone, meaning to pass the remaining time scrolling though Instagram or Tumblr.  _11:50,_ his clock read.  _Not much longer._

Just as he clicked on the Instagram app, the door chimed, the sweet melody ringing throughout the empty bakery. They both instinctively looked up, Dan sliding down from his stool behind the counter and waiting for the customer. Troye glanced at him.  _You want to handle this?_ Dan nodded.

The customer was male, very tall, Dan noted. He had an expensive-looking black French military coat, coupled with black skinny jeans and combat boots. A pair of pearls decorated his ears, cheeks flushed with the cold. His hair was swept up in a neat but ruffled quiff, as if he'd been running his fingers through it earlier. Dan felt shabby in comparison, a black jumper with a thin white grid pattern and the word "END" in a triangle, ripped back jeans, and white shoes. His apron was smudged with flour and cinnamon, the result from the fight with Troye. Dan's brown hair was in its curls, it always did that by the end of the day. He hated it.

Self-consciously, he ruffled them, licking his lips nervously. Troye noticed and snickered, Dan shot him a look that shut him up. The customer was walking up to the counter when their eyes met, and Dan swore he died and came back to life. Twice.

It was him. Philip Lester, the French pop music sensation. Luustr.

Dan had spent many nights awake, Philip's deep voice crooning the words into his ears. He didn't know French, but he knew most of his songs by heart. Dan followed him on every social media he had (maybe that was a little creepy), he had watched all his music videos over and over and had even tried to draw fanart. That didn't turn out to well, so he ended up tossing it in the trash when Troye wasn't looking. (Somehow, though, he'd found it. He'd laughed and laughed and laughed, endlessly teasing him, until he'd threatened to apply him to a school. That usually shut him up pretty quick.)

Now, he was here? How the hell, and why the hell was he here? Wasn't he literally in Paris just two days ago? How'd he find Blue Moon? Dan knew they were popular, but not  _this_  popular. Damn.

He was walking closer, and as he was his eyes met Dan's. The blue pierced his soul, deep endless pools of it, struck through with flashes of green and gold. Dan felt that his own brown eyes were very plain, a mud brown. He blushed, unable to speak, mouth moving but no sound coming out. Troye kicked his shin and flashed him another look.  _Is that who I think it is?_ Dan bit his lip nervously and nodded. His friend's eyes widened, and he busied himself with petty things, secretly to watch what was going to unfold.

"H-Hello, sir. Welcome to the Blue Moon. What may I get for you tonight?"

He walked forward with confidence, stopping in front of Dan. When he looked up, those soul-piercing blue eyes nearly stabbed him right in the heart.  _Luustr! He's rightfrickinthereohmygosh-_ Dan broke off his fanboy chain of thought and straightened slightly, eyes following the man as he moved to stand in front of the display case Troye was messing with.

After a few minutes, he pointed at an item, murmuring to Troye. His friend nodded and pulled a Blue Moon muffin out of the case, placing it on a napkin. He nudged Dan. "Oh! Um, would you like a drink?" Philip nodded. "A hot chocolate would be good."  _Oh my god._ Dan nearly moaned at his voice, a husky, deep tone, a French accent heavy on every word.  _Ugh. God. Stop these traitorous thoughts now, Dan. You're at work._

The oven beeped in the kitchen, signaling the finishing of the last late-night batch of Troye's special chocolate cookies (that he refused to tell Dan how to make). Troye excused himself and ran back, brown curls bouncing as he went. So Dan was left in company with the handsome Philip Lester, having all of these thoughts he probably wasn't supposed to have. He wasn't even looking at him, he was looking at the display case, sharp blue eyes roaming whatever was left. Before he could get caught staring, Dan spun around quickly, back to him as he made Philip's hot chocolate at the drink counter.

 _He's probably not even gay, Dan. He's only ever had girlfriends, right?_ Dan mentally facepalmed, pouring boiling water into a medium-sized cup.  _Ugh, creepy fanboy! Keep it down._ He was just adding the special mix he'd made earlier that morning when Phil spoke. "Are you two the only people that work here?" Dan tensed, not actually believing that his idol was talking to him. "Ah, well, yes. We started this together, never expected it to get this popular." He finished with a little laugh, trying to be humble but it turned out more nervous.  The only indication that Phil had sensed Dan's change in demeanor was the arch of a delicate eyebrow. 

_That eyebrow is more sculpted then I will ever be._

"Ah, je vois." Dan swallowed, anxious. Suddenly he remembered what he had made Philip and pushed it over to him. "Here's your hot chocolate," he said, voice wavering uncertainly. "There's a small shelf over to your right that has all kinds of toppings for it, free of charge." He swallowed again, palms sweating. Where was Troye? Certainly, taking cookies out of the oven shouldn't take this long.

Philip went over to the shelf, and Dan physically relaxed. His tense shoulders fell, his hands stopped gripping the countertop. Dan felt his breathing start to speed up, the erratic rhythm familiar but not at all welcome.  _4-7-8. 4-7-8. 4-7-8._ He repeated it, over and over, until he finally felt calmer. By now, Philip was walking back, the cup of coco now topped with homemade whipped cream, cinnamon dust, and two mini marshmallows.

 Dan, now a little calmer, slipped back into his flirty exterior. "Would you like a little coffee with that sugar?" He joked, laughing quietly. Philip looked at him, confused, then laughed with him as he got the joke. "Oui. This is how I like it." He smiled, more on the smirk side then friendly conversation side. Dan rung up his total, vaugely aware of the words "That'll be £11," coming out of his mouth, overriden by the thoughts in his head.  _Why are you flirting with Philip fucking Lester? Luustr? Have you no sanity?_

Philip handed over the money and Dan took it, his movements on on autopilot. Dan gave him his change and Philip grabbed his hot chocolate and Blue Moon muffin, moving to sit at one of the window tables, where light from a nearby streetlight was pouring it. Dan checked his phone.  _12:01._ He sighed, not even ready for studying about his freaking food art test. Philip Lester was here, why not talk to him? A glance his way showed Philip on his phone, presumably scrolling through Instagram or Twitter.  _Nah, he's busy. I shouldn't bother him._ Dan stepped out from behind the counter, walking towards the front of the store. He flipped the switch on the neon sign, the colourful "open" turning dim as he shut it off. Dan turned to Philip, now seeing him arranging his things, probably for a photo.

"Hey. We close up at midnight, but you're welcome to stay for maybe...ten minutes? Then my friend has to help me study for an exam tomorrow." He pointed a finger in the direction of the kitchen, where Troye had been hiding for the past ten to fifteen minutes. Philip looked over and laughed, the rich sound filling his ears. "Ah, exams. I remember those days." He smiled, though he looked sad. Dan frowed. Was he missing his uni days? Who in their right mind would though? He wanted to be done.

"I kind of miss the days when I was young and free," Philip said. "No contracts, no important deadlines, no instant recognition wherever I go. I'm greatful for my fans, but it can be extremely draining." He paused, looking at Dan. "I'm guessing you know who I am then?" Dan bit his lip guiltily. He thought for a moment, then nodded, slightly ashamed. Some kind of emotion flashed in his eyes, going as quickly as it came. "Well, thank you for not freaking out. And letting me come in so late. Sorry about that." He huffed a laugh. "It's fine." Dan trailed off, leaning awkwardly on one foot, eyes stuck on Philip's face. Philip was looking right back at him, those intense blue eyes taking in every quirk he had.

The silence dragged on for longer than Dan thought was necessary, so he coughed. "Well then, I'm going to get back to the kitchen. Got some stuff I need to go before go study." He smiled nervously, watching Philip nod in understanding, barely hearing him when he wishes him a good night and good luck on his test. Dan scurries away, retreating to the kitchen.

Dan sighed as the warmth enveloped him. In contrast to the neon, night aesthetic that dominated the main area of the bakery, the kitchen was warm and well-lit. Tan, marbled tiles were spread over the floor, slightly dirty from the day's hustle and bustle. Walls painted white with a hint of cream surrounded the space, with ladles and spatulas and other baking utensils hanging off metal hooks. They both had decided to use as much counter space as possible, so Troye had come up with the great idea of hanging things in neat groups and rows. Cooling racks, baking sheets, bowls, and other things were lined neatly in open drawers above the countertops, seperated by type. They had two ovens, side by side on the left side of the kicthen. Dan's special-order aesthetic lights hung from the ceiling, lighting up the space with warm yellow light. Dan's favourite feature, however, was the window on the far wall, a medium-sized pane that stretched halfway across the length of the wall. The window ledge was extended, allowing them to place several succulents and cacti along it to flourish. It was especially pretty when the moon was out, coating the kitchen in liquid moonlight.

Troye was sitting on the counter with phone in hand, tapping away. Probably on the groupchat. Ryan, Connor, and Tyler never left them alone for more than an hour, always wanting to spill tea on someone. All of them went to uni, though, so they only saw each other over breaks, weekends, or the occasional skip. Dan always turned his phone off during work, though, he didn't want to be distracted. He tapped Troye's screen.

"Hey." Troye looked up, surprised. "Hello, Dan. Did you finish with the handsome customer?"

Dan blushed. Troye smirked, kicking him softly on the leg. "Does little Danny-boy have a cruuuush?" Dan snorted, crossing his arms. "Nope. Never have, never will."

"What's that I smell?" Troye sniffed the air and waved his hand not occupied by his phone in the air. "Bullshit. Where's the Lysol?"

Dan sighed heavily, then started to laugh. Loudly. "Woooow, like that joke isn't overused. Original, Sivan." Troye sniffed. "Shall I show you the meme as well?" He was already halfway to pulling it up before Dan had a chance to react. "Good, nope, thanks. Don't need any of your lame, 2012 memes. Goodbye, I don't know you!" Dan called over his shoulder, grabbing a damp washcloth and tossing it from hand-to-hand, shoving the door open with his shoulders. Ignoring Troye's cry of "wait I found it!", he hummed to himself, a tune he made up and sings when he's working.

He walked to the topping station, quickly wiping the surface down, then straightening the glass jars, collecting the spoons and tongs, and straightening the napkins. He put the utensils in the pocket of his apron to wash later and moved on, starting on wiping down a booth table. He continued his cycle for a few more minutes, finding calm in the small, repititive task. When he reached the table where Philip had been sitting, he stopped, realizing how quiet it had become. Of course he had left, it was...12:16, and who knows what he'd been doing or was going to do. Still, Dan had hoped to get to know him a little better.  _Oh well, my dreams weren't ever going to happen in the first place._ He sighed and went back to work, the rag now being swept over the table at a rougher pace.

-

"Troye?"

"Yes?"

"I think I'm gonna wing it."

"What?!" Troye looked outraged. "Are you insane? How do you expect to pass this test by winging it?"

Dan sighed, closing the textbook with a loud  _thunk._ "I passed high school this way, didn't I? And I'm sure you did too, somwhere in there." He leaned his head on his hand, eyes half-open. "It's 1:30, Troye. My class is at nine, I think I'll be fine." Troye shrugged. "Ok, suit yourself." He got up, sliding the chair under the table in their small dining room. "Goodnight, Dan. Love ya." He hugged him across the table, cheek smushed against Dan's. "Love you too. Sleep well." The Troye was gone, the echo of the door shutting as he retreated to his room. Dan slid his chair under as well, yawning and stumbling to his room with the textbook tucked under his arm. He reached his room and dropped the book at the door, letting it hit the floor and stay there. He practically threw himself onto his bed, only bothering to shuck off his shoes into the corner. He sleepily turned his head towards the window, watching the night pass by.

They really scored with this place.

The bakery was on the bottom, their flat on top. It was small, about the same size of the bakery, but it was better than nothing. It was also super convienent, Dan and Troye didn't have to wake up too early to get to work. As for decoration, there wasn't much, they were more the "cozy minimalist style" and preferred to spend their money on more important things, like bills or things for the bakery. Their rooms, however, did have a bit of decoration. Troye always had flowers, the old florist down the street gave him flowers if they didn't sell after a week (in exchange for some of his specialty chocolate cookies). He also had several movie posters, bought online (or gifts from Dan). Troye's room was well-lit and open, his flowers-and-sun aesthetic dominating.

Dan, on the other hand, was completely different. His room was dark, similar to the main area in the bakery down below. He called it the Moon Room because of the white neon lineart full moon hanging over his headboard. Not much else was in there, except of a small vase of white lilies from the florist, a full-length mirror on the wall next to his closet; a plush black rug striped with thin white lines, and the huge window that overlooked the street outside. Well, he couldn't see much because of the neon letters that spelled out their bakery's name that were conviently placed right in front of his window.

At first he'd been annoyed, but one night he'd discovered that he could climb onto the roof and into the O of  _Moon_ and simply sit and watch, or read if he was feeling anxious. It was one of his favourite spots, being coated in the blue glow as he read or occassionally napped. Troye didn't have the guts to climb out here, but Dan was detirmined to get him out here. It was gorgeous.

Right before Dan fell asleep, his phone dinged. WIth a mutter of annoyance, he grabbed it. He'd forgotten that he'd turned it back on after Philip had left and he was waiting for Troye to help him study. "What now?" He mumbled, still half asleep.

It was a text from Troye.

**Troye: mate did you see luustrs insta pic+story yet??**

**Dan: it's literally almost 2am why are you up and texting me this**

**Troye: because i can. anyway pretty please go check it out? you'll thank me later~**

Dan sighed. If it was such a big deal, then fine.

**Dan: fine. don't text me again tonight tho i thought you wanted me to do well on this test**

Troye didn't respond. Dan smirked.

He opened his Instagram, expecting some huge news like a new tour or something. Instead, the first picture that popped up in his feed was a well lit, angled photo of a Blue Moon muffin and an over-decorated hot chocolate.  _Oh._ That was a Blue Moon muffin. And the chocolate Philip had ordered.  _Oh my._

Philip had posted about his very late-night trip here. The photo had almost 500k likes and the comments were wild, most of them saying things like "oh that looks so good!" or "blue moon bakery? i haven't been but i know it's good", "i love that place!!". Dan hadn't expected such a reaction. He just made food that he happened to have too much sugar. What really scared him, though, was that some of the comments had tagged him, people who were fans of him, knew he co-owned the bakery, or who had been.  _I don't want Philip to know who I am! He's a huge international popular singer, a hot one at that, with 10+ million fans. I'm not worth his time, much less a notice from a few comments!_

His eyes widened as he clicked on the story. It was a short one, but very effective. If he knew French.

_The camera was on Dan, back to the camera as he fiddled with something behind the counter. It zoomed in, Phil narriating in the background. "Il a fait ce bon muffin. Mignon." Philip laughed quietly, the sound low._

Dan had no idea what he'd said, but the post had the exact same caption. Maybe he could translate it later. Yeah. Right now he was so tired things were blurring and doubling. "Mkay, Dan. Time to sleep."

He didn't bother to set an alarm before putting his phone back on the nightstand and knocking himself out right there on top of the sheets and blankets, he knew Troye would come in the next morning probably hitting him in the face with a pillow.

His phone dinged with a notification, but he didn't hear it.


	2. two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok! phil is like the french love-child of troye sivan x conan gray (he just has a deeper/more seductive voice and a french accent) i'll be translating troye's/conan's songs into french, maybe edit them slightly to fit phil. all credit to them though, the real talents here  
> also, there will be song collabs (one or two) with other artists that they'll be in! ;)
> 
> go check out imnotinclinedtomaturity ! they have a similar story, called "love yourself"! it's my favourite fanficiton, hands down.  
> some inspiration was taken from that, but 96% of this was taken from my head.
> 
> ok i hope you enjoy!  
> (btw, the Ari mentioned in this chapter is not Ariana Grande. she'll be in later)

Dan yawned, still sleeping.

He could sense that it was morning, the sun could be relentless sometimes. He never wanted to get up, though. He hummed and burrowed further into the small mass of monochrome pillows surrounding his head, letting them block out the morning light. Dan's breathing evened out as he fell back into his deep, dreamless sleep.

So deep that he didn't hear the footsteps outside his room, stopping at the door. It creaked quietly as it opened, the person slipping inside. Dan's plush rug muffled any sounds of approach, and suddenly there was a pillow on his butt.

"Argh! What the-"

Dan's eyes snapped open as he was suddenly under fire. On instinct, he curled into a ball (if it could even be called that) and kept his face shoved in the pillows. "Wake up, Daniel!" The assailant yelled, clearly much more awake than he was. In a half-assed, sleepy attempt at defense, he grabbed at the pillow when it came to hit again and tried to wrestle it out of Troye's hands. Sleepy as he was, though, that didn't do much good, other than tugging Troye down, landing awkwardly on top of him.

From this angle, Dan couldn't defend himself at all. Troye was good at close-range pillow fights, Dan actually had a scar to prove it. (From falling backwards into a lamp). "Ahh, Troye, stooop," he pleaded, the pillow now coming down at equal intervals. "'M up, Troye. 'M up!" Troye laughed and sat down, right on top of his friend, Dan letting out an  _oomph_ in protest. "You're heavy. Get off." Still being half asleep, however, did not help him much. Troye stayed still, watching Dan futility trying to shove him, the hands only wrinkling his tight white turtleneck.

"Ugh," Dan whined, giving up and slouching back into the mattress. "You're terrible." Troye laughed, hitting him lightly one last time before tossing it off to the side. "I know. You still haven't left me though." Dan's face crinkled, eyes closed. "Yeah. Fine. Whatever. You want me to go to school and succeed in life? Let me up." His friend huffed before lifting himself off and scooching to the end of the bed. Dan sighed, eyes still closed, before rolling to the side and shoving himself up. Blinking rapidly, Dan stood and stretched, groaning as he lifted his arms above his head. With a yawn, he turned to Troye. "Alright. I'm up. Need to shower though." His nose crinkled as he shoved Troye to the floor. "Get outta here. I'll see you in when I'm done."

Troye strode to the door, throwing a few last words over his shoulder. "You really should start setting an alarm, Danny."

Dan shut the door behind him, muttering to himself how  _Troye can be such a nuisance but he's still my best friend_ or  _he should really stop waking me up by throwing pillows that kinda hurts._

He shuffled over to the adjoining bathroom, looking at his reflection in the mirror. There were bags under his eyes, his curly hair was a mess and his face felt greasy. The fact that he was wearing yesterday's clothes didn't help much either. Dan stuck his tongue out at his own reflection, just to spite himself. He started to laugh, half at himself and half because he still wasn't fully awake. Slowly he stripped down, tossing his clothes to side as he turned on the shower, throwing a final sock over his shoulder as he stepped in.

-

The kettle whistled loudly from the stove, water finally ready. Troye jumped up from his seat at the small table and vanished into the kitchen. Dan looked back down at his textbook, rubbing his eyes. He  _knew_ he should've started studying earlier in the week, but he didn't want to. And, running a popular bakery on the side wasn't easy. It was only them (counting Ms. Brixton, she helped them with the finance) that ran this place, Dan didn't understand why Troye wanted him to go back to school. What good would it do? Right now, it only seemed to give Dan stress and bad grades.

Troye whisked back to the table in record time, two mugs of green tea balanced in his hands. "Here you go, Dan. Studying going good?" Dan accepted his mug, setting it down next to the heavy book and running his thumb down the top right corners of the pages. "No. I'm not going to pass this test." Stressed, he took a sip of the still-scalding liquid. "Going to have another failed test under my belt." Troye looked on, quiet. All playfulness from this morning was gone, now replaced by quiet anxiety. "What are they going to say? Are they going to kick me out? How am I supposed to finish school then? Should I cheat? What happens if they find out-"

"Dan."

Troye stood up, waking behind Dan and putting a hand on each of his shoulders. "Shh. It'll be ok. Do you need to do your exercises?" Dan didn't respond, but started to breathe deeply, counting in his head.  _4-7-8. 4-7-8. 4-7-8._

Dan opened his eyes, letting out one last breath, feeling the anxiety melt away. "Should I go get your journal?" Troye whispered, hands still on his shoulders. Dan nodded. "Ok. Stay here and drink some more of your tea, I'll be right back. Here," He closed the textbook and slid it away, to the edge of the table. "Don't pay attention to that." With a smile, he was gone, in search of Dan's journal.

He lifted the tea to his lips, letting it flow down his throat and soothe his prickly thoughts. Troye was right, it'd be ok. He'd figure it out, hopefully.

Troye padded softly back into the kitchen, socked footsteps coming to rest in front of him. He looked up, meeting his friend's eyes. "D'you find it?" His friend shook his head. "Nope. Wasn't in your nightstand." Dan hummed, thinking. Where could it be?

"Oh! I think it's on the coffee table." He started to get up, shoving his chair away, only to be gently pressed back. "Stay here, Dan. Save your energy, I'll get it." Dan frowned but stayed down. He started humming again, one of Philip's most popular songs,  _Jeunesse._

_Ma jeunesse, ma jeunesse est le tien._

Troye walked back in, gently putting a black faux-leather journal in front of him, red fingernails tapping the cover. "Was that  _Jeunesse_?" He asked, laying a pen down next to it. "Mhm," he nodded, opening his journal and flipping to the newest empty page, clicking the pen and dating the entry. "It's the 12th," Troye corrected, reaching around him to pick up his tea. "Sorry."

"It's fine. Don't worry about it."

Dan finished scratching in his entry a few minutes later, letting Troye check it over before handing it to him to be placed neatly back in his nightstand's top drawer. He came back quickly, trying to tug on a shoe and tie his apron at the same time. "I'm going down now, gotta get some things mixed, baked, and placed before the crowd comes in." He tripped and flung out a hand, just barely catching himself on the edge of the table. Dan cracked a smile and laughed. "You idiot. You can't put on shoes  _and_ tie your apron. Pick one or get over here."

Troye rolled his eyes but righted himself, kicking off his shoe and turning around, letting Dan untie the messy half-knot, then retying it, giving it a final tug. He shoved his friend away and stood, chair scraping the floor. "Well, I guess I'll head down with you. Might get there early this time." Troye flashed a lopsided smile, adjusting his shoe and standing up. "Alright then, my friend," he said, clapping his hands. "You feel good enough to start the day?" When he got the nod of affirmation, Troye tossed him his textbook, yelling to go get his bookbag and his ass to school, all while swiping the empty mugs from the table and placing them in the sink. He grabbed keys off the rack on the way out, running to join Dan as he went down the stairs.

"Wait for me!"

-

_8:25_

Dan turned off his phone and slid it in his back pocket, placing an earbud in his ear. "Bye, Troye!" He slid off the countertop, waving to his friend. "I'll be back soon!" Troye waved in return, calling out as he went. "Bye honey! Be home in time for dinner!" Dan rolled his eyes and flipped him off, pushing out into the main area, a slight pep in his step as he navigated his way through the maze of tables and chairs.

Cold air hit him like a brick wall as he stepped out, the glass door closing with a little tinkle of a bell. Dan shivered, shoving his hands in his hoodie pockets as far as they could go. It was cold, the pre-fall air  _Jeunesse_ was still playing, Philip's deep voice and upbeat melody causing him to look at the world in a different way, like he could do anything he wanted, at any time he wanted. But what was holding him back? That was the real question, but not exactly the right time to be contemplating human desires. Especially when you're walking to school, about to flunk a test.

He stopped at the crosswalk, letting his head bop gently to the beat, following the people in front of him as the light changed to red to let them cross. Even through his earbuds and loud music, Dan could still hear the people, all chattering and going about their daily lives. It made him happy. And happy was good.

-

Dan's route to school varied almost every time he went. He was never able to forget the fact that he  _was_ a popular YouTuber, part-time job. People were almost guaranteed to recognize him, so he'd started having to change routes, never staying on the same path. He'd have to wear hoods and walk quickly, not letting anything distract him. Today, he'd taken one of the longer routes, a new one he'd mapped out yesterday. It had plenty of back alleyways, almost guaranteeing that he wouldn't be bothered.

And he was right.

Dan turned onto Little Portland Street, taking an earbud out as he did. Olive was going to yell at him again if he walked in with both in.  _What are you doing?! My best friend, popular baker and YouTuber, disobeying the rules?! You idiot! Give them to me!!_ He smiled, laughing to himself. Olive was the best. She was one of his closest friends, one of the staples of his "regular" life. When he was at the bakery, he was Daniel Howell, co-starter of Blue Moon. When he was on camera, he was relatable, dark-humored, Dan Howell. When he was at school, however, he was just him. He messed up, he failed tests, he had friends who went off on rants about something they had heard that morning. It was exhausting being three people, but it was a good type of exhausting.

As he reached for the handle, he felt two small hands slap down on his shoulders, accompanied with a loud, excited voice. "Dan!"

"What the-" He spun around, startled out of his own skin. As soon as his eyes set on the tanned skin and strands of hair poking out of an aesthetic yellow hijab, however, his face broke out into a huge grin. "Olive! Hey!" He leaned forward and gave her a hug. "You startled me!" ( **a/n: I don't mean any harm/mean to be offensive. I want this fic to have diversity, so if I’ve written something wrong, please tell me so I can correct it! ty)** Olive smiled back, grinning. "Sorry Dan. But I noticed you had an earbud in..." She moved to grab it, but Dan ducked to the side. "Hey! I had one out! You stick to the rules too much." She rolled her eyes. "Yes, but that's also how I pass all my tests."

Dan wore a look of absolute exasperation. "Oh, come  _on,_ " he whined. "You know it's true. Now come inside. The night class might've left some muffins. I heard they were double chocolate chip." Muttering, he followed, slipping into the warm building. Immediately, he relaxed, breathing out. He felt Olive touch his wrist, silently telling him to follow her. After two years of knowing her, he learned all the silent communications she sent. So he followed, past the check-in counter, past the kitchens and classrooms to the storage closet, mainly used for keeping non-perishable ingredients. But every so often, among the shelves of flour, sugar, baking powder and various types of baking chips, there would be a bag of muffins, left over from the night classes. Someone knew they liked them, so they'd kindly started leaving a bag of four in-between canisters of baking powder. Dan would sometimes leave a hastily-scribbled  _thank you_ on a scrap of paper in the same spot before he left. If he could, he'd leave some things for them too, but currently they weren't baking anything, so it was hard to do so. No use of the kitchens without permission.

Olive peeked among the shelves, looking for the signature ragged red ribbon that was always tied around the bag. Soon, she spotted it, and with a swish of her green dress, was darting around the corner. "Dan!" She whisper-called. "I got it!" Olive held up the bag in victory, bookbag brushing the shelves as she did so. "They're double chocolate chip too!" Her enthusiasm was infective, Dan couldn't help but to smile again. "You want to eat them now, or after school?"

"After," she responded immediately. "It'll be a we-did-good-on-the-test reward." His face fell. She knew him too well to know everything was  _not_ ok. "What's up?" Dan chewed his lip, thinking.  _Should I tell her I didn't study?_  "Ah, I..." Olive tilted her head, zipping up her bookbag. "Did you not study?" Her voice was soft. "Well...yeah...I guess you could call it that." His eyes flicked to the smooth floor. He'd specifically told her he'd study, but then he'd gone and had a depressive episode, one where he couldn't get out of bed, and Troye had to manage they bakery on his own for a day, which made Dan feel absolutely terrible. He'd tried, but he didn't. He couldn't. So he'd shoved it off until only a few hours ago. Which ended up  _not_ being the best idea, but he couldn't care less.

Olive tapped him on the arm. "Hey. I'm kinda disappointed you didn't study, but I'm going to assume it just wasn't procrastination?"  _Oh right. I forgot that she knows about my mental health issues._ He mumbled out his answer. "Yeah. Had an episode." She frowned, pulling him into another hug. He let her, arms awkwardly dangling at his sides. "You feel better?" He nodded. "Ok. I'll let you cheat off my test." She shrugged, as if it suddenly never occurred to her that  _she, Olive, the strict rule follower_ , was letting Dan cheat off her test. His eyes widened in surprise. "What?"

She nodded, confirming her decision. He laughed. "Are you sure? You confiscate my earbuds if I don't have them put away." She sniffed. "Well, today I've decided to help you. But," Olive paused, a glint in her eye. "Payment, please." She held out her hand expectedly. Dan sighed, digging in his pocket for his earbuds, then placing them in her open palm. "Thank you, Dan! Now let's go. Maybe we can bug Ari. They might be here."

Dan agreed.

-

"Alright, alright, in your seats!"

Dan stopped mid-conversation and watched as their teacher, Mr. Wilson, walked in. He was in his mid-40's, with slightly-greying short brown hair. As usual, his shirt was untucked on one side, as if he'd woken up late and rushed to class.  _Eh. I've been there way too many times. I feel ya._ Dan slid into his chair, eyes meeting Olive's on his right. She gave him a reassuring thumbs-up, he smiled weakly back.

"Sorry I'm late. Family emergency." Dan heard Ari on his other side muttering something around the lines of "yeah right, more like you wanted more sleep," and huffed in laughter. With a glance from his teacher he shut up, drumming his fingers instead. "Today we will be taking the test for your Food as Art unit. I hope you all studied..." he paused, clearing his throat and glancing at everyone sternly. "...because this unit was one of your major ones before we actually start in the kitchen. This will determine if you are ready to start in the kitchen. If you pass, I will have you go find your size in chef uniforms in the locker room. If you do not pass, however," he paused and looked around at the class with another meaningful glare. "I will give you one more go at it, but if you fail that as well, I'll have to have a talk with you, then consider where we're going from there. Understood?"

The rest of the class nodded, Dan giving Olive a panicked sideways glance, anxiety spiking.  _Don't worry,_ she said silently.  _I've got a plan._ Dan bit his lip and faced forward again, watching as people took a test and passed it back. Dan was in the back row, so it might be a little easier. When he got his test, he skimmed over it, recognizing a few questions he could do. Not enough to get him by, though. He tapped the pencil's eraser on the desk, flipping through the test and filling out the ones he knew. Dan looked up at Mr. Wilson, who was trying to stay awake while typing something on his laptop. He then looked to Olive, who looked to be purposely writing in red pen, the first page halfway filled out.

 _It's risky, but I might be able to do it._ He focused back on his own test, leaning down so he could still see Mr. Wilson but still be able to see Olive's answers. He'd never done this before, he'd always been the good kid when it came to schoolwork and studying.  _Oh well, I guess. Times change._

A few times he came across questions he had no idea what they were even saying, so he didn't even bother with those, deciding to leave them blank or take an "educated guess".

Dan hated guessing.

-

_4:15_

"Bye, Olive! Bye Ari!"

They waved as he darted out the door, out of the suffocating atmosphere that was inside. As he walked, Dan shoved his earbuds in his ears, letting the music wash over him. After a very stressful day, that was all he wanted to do. Dan sent a text to Troye saying he'd be back soon.

_**[4:16]** _ **Dan: yo i'm done with school. hopefully i pass. what've you been up to?**

_**[4:16]** _ **Troye: good i nearly got killed in the lunch crowd why are there so many people then??**

_**[4:17]** _ **Dan: lol well we did choose to put a bakery downtown, in the middle of a bunch of universities**

Dan stopped, waiting for the crosswalk light to change.

_**[4:19]** _ **Dan: hey didn't you want to tell me something about luustr's insta story earlier?**

_**[4:19]** _ **Troye: oh yeah! i translated it and it said "he made me this good muffin. cute" danny boy got noticed~ <33**

He nearly choked. Cute? His  _idol_ since his later years in high school called  _him_ cute?  _Good lord. I swear, this is how I'm going to die. RIP Dan, death by fanboying too hard._

_**[4:21]** _ **Dan: you're kidding**

**_[4:22]_ ** **Troye: nope!! he asked for you earlier today and i had to tell him you weren't here but i didn't say where. he said he might come back, he wanted to talk to you**

_Oh my god._

_**[4:22]** _ **Dan: brb**

**_[4:22]:_ ** **Troye: lol you better your pretty little ass needs to help me manage these crazy people**

Dan's mind was going faster than the earth was spinning, which was certainly saying something. Cute? Was Troye sure Philip was talking about him, and not the muffin? The muffins were pretty cute, too. Nice little hand-cut moon on top.

A few minutes later, he reached the bakery, quickly crossing the street and putting his phone away.

The bell rang out when he entered, the aromas of freshly-baked goods greeting his nose.  _Ah._ People chatted all around him, distracting him from the white noise in his head. Troye, at the front counter, looked up and broke into a big smile when he saw Dan. "Hey! How'd it go?" Dan smiled back, weaving through the tables and people. "I honestly don't know," he answered when he reached the counter, walking behind into the kitchen.

Troye glanced around, looking for new customers, finding none and following Dan back. "Did you get a chance to study?"

"No, but...Olive-" Troye interrupted. "Olive! Gotta love her. How's she doing? And Ari! Did they get their hair dyed yet?" Dan shrugged off his black glittery bookbag onto the floor. "Olive's doing great! Still hates it when I break rules. Though, she did help me with my test. And yes, Ari did get their hair dyed. Who knew they had such good taste in colours?"

"Sounds great! You should send a picture next time. But," he leaned on the counter. "What was that about Olive?" Dan decided to get straight to the point. "She let me cheat off her test."

In two seconds flat, Troye's face went from smug to angry disbelief. "What?!" Dan held out a hand, keeping it firmly against Troye's chest. "Listen. I told her I didn't study, and I told her why." Dan shot him a meaningful glance, to which Troye stopped struggling. "Oh. Sorry for jumping to conclusions," he muttered, stepping away.

"I'm controlling, aren't I?"

Dan blinked. He wasn't expecting this. "Well, depends. On my education, yes, but that's only because you care. However, you could tone it down a bit." Troye smiled halfheartedly. "Heh. Will do. Sorry for that. I-" Right then, the bell rang out, both of them stopping in their tracks. "I'll tell you when we close up. Here. Take your apron." He snagged it off the hook, throwing it at Dan. "I think I saw the Cherry Clusters were low...I'll make more. Go talk to people." Troye shoved Dan in front, wishing him luck with whoever had come in. Muttering, he finished tying the knot and trudged up to the front counter, doing his best to put on a friendly-looking smile (or as close to it as he could get right now). "Hello, welcome to Blue Moon. What can I get for you today?"

"Un chocolat chaud, s'il vous plaît?"

Dan gasped. The customer standing in front of him was Luustr himself. Again. In broad daylight. Dan couldn't help the fierce blush that seemed to take over his face in a matter of seconds. Today, he was wearing a white jumper, striped with black and dotted with little groups of three flowers; red, blue, and yellow. He had on black jeans, a neatly stylized quiff (again) completing the look. It seemed so... _uncharacteristic..._ of him. In all his photos and videos, Philip was usually wearing something bold, with sharp lines and a simple pallete, something that usually involved black (which was one of the reasons why Dan loved him). Now, here, he seemed to be a totally different person, soft and slightly feminine, but still with the angular, I-can-and-will-cut-you jawline. Dan felt underdressed in his all-black outfit and flour-spotted apron.

Dan, aware that he was staring, tried to tear his eyes away, to no avail. He was probably treading the line of checking him out and eyefucking very closely, but he couldn't bring himself to care. "Daniel?" The deep voice finally snapped him out of his head; his thoughts were starting to go south. "A-ah yes, that's fine. That'll be..." He trailed off again. "Four pounds." Philip laughed and slid a ten-pound note over the counter with two fingers.

"Gardez la monnaie."

That stupid, sexy smirk. Dan had  _no_ idea what he had just said meant, maybe somewhere along the lines of "just keep the extra"? He could care less, though. "O-ok, you remember where the toppings a-are?"

_Goddammit. I hate it when I stutter. Stupid anxiety._

Philip nodded and Dan spun around quickly, busying himself with the task of making Philip his hot chocolate.  _Deep breaths, Dan. Deep breaths._

"H-here," Dan put the cup down, withdrawing his shaky hand as fast as possible, trying to let Philip see how anxious he was. Hard as he tried, Philip still noticed, and his gaze went from something a little short of flirty to concerned and soft. "Merci, Daniel. Prends soin." With that he turned away, back into his own little world. Dan wrapped his arms around himself, trying to cling to his last bit of dignity, if he still had any at all.

The clock on the far wall read  _4:45._ Dan sighed. They still had hours to go. Luckily, they closed at nine on Mondays.

-

They were both at the counter, browsing selective apps on their phones. Troye had finished the baking an hour or two earlier, so he'd come up to help Dan, eagerly questioning him, asking if Philip had come by yet.

Dan hadn't answered.

Now, it was  _8:45,_ the traffic having trickled down to almost nothing. Only a few people were left, night owl uni students or people who just needed a sugar boost.

Philip was still here.

Dan was confused. Why was he still here? He'd only ordered the one hot coco, was he not hungry or thirsty? He hadn't seemed to have moved much, if it all. As of now, he was scrolling through his phone, occasionally looking up at the clock, then at the counter. Dan had avoided his looks every time, despite Troye's friendly nudges. Finally, Troye couldn't take it, and snatched his phone from his fingers. Dan yelped, trying to swipe for it. "Hey! Give that back!"

"No. Not unless you go talk to Luustr over there."

Dan blushed, blinking fast. "No! Why?" Troye was now looking at him if he had just asked what type of animal the Pink Panther was. "He keeps looking over here, idiot! He obviously wants to talk to you! Honestly, you are so  _dumb_ when it comes to flirting." He sighed, putting a hand on his hip. "He was flirting with me?" Dan gasped. "Oh. My. God. When we close up, we are  _having a chat._ " Troye's lips curved into a smirk, that could literally mean anything. He swallowed. "Fine."

Ignoring Troye's triumphant " _yeet!_ " behind him, he made his way over, cheeks just getting hotter and hotter. Just as he was about to reach Philip's booth, he tripped (over absolutely  _nothing_ ), and slammed his hands down onto the booth's table to catch himself, closing his eyes as he prepared to feel a headache later. When he opened his eyes, however, the view was not the floor.

Dan had caught himself right in front of Philip, long arms somehow managing to cage him in. Dan's blushing face was two inches from Philip's surprised one, so close he could've leaned forward and-

"Hey. My name is Philip."

The surprised expression had changed into something undoubtedly flirty, undoubtedly extremely flirty. The oversized sweater was bunched up around his hands, making what Dan liked to call sweater-paws. His head was in his hands, tilted to the side, lips slightly puckered in a pout. Dan was pretty sure he exploded then, face turning into a literal tomato. His hands came up over his mouth as he leaped two feet back, trying to give himself space to cool down. "OhmygoshIamsosorryItrippedIdidn'tmeanto-"

"Daniel, it's fine," the voice was practically a purr. "Ok," he squeaked, voice muffled by the fabric of his sweater. Phil had put his hands down, now sipping delicately out of the sugar-concoction he'd made. The neon lighting around the ceiling sharpened his face even more, clearly defining his cheekbones. "Did you want to ask me something?" He asked after a few more moments of staring.

"Would you like to show me around London tomorrow morning?"

Dan choked, trying to breathe.  _Show him around London??? Is he insane?? Is this a date??_

He finally regained his breath, looking behind his shoulder at Troye, who was actually crouched behind the counter, silently breaking down. "Um..." was all he could manage. "If you can't, that's fine." Philip still looked sad, despite his words. Dan was about to say he had work, but with a glance back at Troye, who had popped up, furiously nodding his head. "Nonono, I can. W-what time?" Nervously, he started playing with the hem of his jumper. "Is nine am good for you?" Troye was a bobble-head again. "Yep! That's great. But haven't you already been to London? Multiple times?"

Philip tilted his head, sipping more of his drink. "Yes, but I'm sure I missed some things," he cooed, widening his eyes. Dan blushed again, looking down. "YepalrightmaybeyoudidoksorryIhavetogonowbye." With that, Dan sprinted off, diving behind the counter and joining Troye in fanboying. Troye was violently shaking him by his shoulders when Philip peered over the top. They froze.

"By the way, Daniel, you can call me Phil."

Dan sighed. "Call me Dan," he half-whispered, barely hearing  _Phil_ chuckle and disappear, the bell signifying his departure.

Troye shoved one fist in his mouth, using the other to punch Dan.

"You got yourself a date, fucker! Time to close up, we need to talk." He wiggled his eyebrows.

 

"It's not a date," he muttered shyly, smiling all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh sorry for the huge timeskip from taking the test/getting out the door but i was out of ideas for what to do there and it was kinda boring and i had other ideas in mind for this chapter :P
> 
> french in this chapter:  
> \- jeunesse: youth  
> \- Ma jeunesse, ma jeunesse est le tien: my youth, my youth is yours  
> \- Un chocolat chaud, s'il vous plaît: a hot chocolate, please?  
> \- Gardez la monnaie: keep the change  
> \- Merci...prends soin: thank you...take care
> 
> \- - other: - -  
> \- go check out my other chaptered (wip) work: "what a heavenly way to die, what a time to be alive"  
> \- currently in the google doc planning stage: "venice" (italian!dan, british!phil, when you literally crash and fall for someone. takes place in manarola, cinque terre, and venice): also chaptered


	3. three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies if the spacing looks a little off! i wrote this on word, just pasted it here, since i was in the car for 12+ hours when i wrote the first half. chapters should be back to normal after this one, or halfway through this chapter it should fix itself. :) anyway enjoy! this will most likely be split into two or three chapters, which I will post a few days after. (lol fun fact i actually have the list of places they might go in my notes. i like to plan)
> 
> btw, this is not a date. Troye sees it as one, but it's not. Phil’s extremely flirty, however, so we'll see how this plays out. 
> 
> confident gay vs shy bi who's gonna fall first??
> 
> c:

_How did I ever think that this was a good idea?_

Dan stared down at the fast-cooling cup of tea in his hands. Today he was going to meet Philip in about an hour and he wasn't sure how he was going to handle this. Last night, he'd been spurred on by Troye and riding a rare wave of confidence, but he wasn't sure what he was going to do this. He'd been beached by his wave, stomach now rolling with anxiety.

 

_How am I going to keep him entertained? What do I show him? Will he like me?_

"Hey! Dan!" He was startled out of his thoughts by Troye, who was wearing an oversized, forest-green shirt, embroidered with roses on the collar and sleeves. "Pretty," Dan murmured. "Is that new?" Troye shook his head. "Nope. Just found it at the back of my closet. Don't even remember buying it. I think my closet's a black hole." Dan smiled. "What, are you going to pull a hot guy out of there one day?"

 

"No, you  _idiot_!" Troye smacked him on the head. "You wish."

 

"No, not really."

 

That trouble-causing smirk was back on his friend's face. "What, cause you got Philip?"

 

Blush bloomed over his cheeks, which he tried to hide with the mug. "Nooo! I don't even know him that well!" Troye rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and I'm blonde. I've seen your search history, I know you stalk him on all his social media sites. Do I even  _need_ to bring up the  _absolutely horrendous_ fanart you tried to-"

 

"You stop RIGHT THERE-" Dan almost threw his tea to the side as he lunged at Troye, trying to cover his mouth with his hands. Dan forcefully shoved him back, into the dining table. "That. Was a different time. Please, do not speak of that." Troye pried his hands away, falling back and laughing, eyes closed. "You-You are r-really unique," he got out between laughs. "Oh my god."

 

Troye sat up, wiping at his eyes. Dan stood by, arms crossed. "Are you...crying?" Troye's shoulders shook as he continued laughing. "Yes. Because you are..." he trailed off, sighing. "You are a thing," he finished. Dan nodded, unimpressed. "Yes. I am a thing." His friend frowned. "Sorry if I hurt you," he said, ever the caring friend. Dan shot him a quick smile. "It's fine. That was one of the worst things I've ever done, though. Can't believe you didn't stop me."

 

"Pfft. Would've if I could've, mate."

 

He hopped off the table, grabbing an apron. "Before you go meet your prince, I've got a batch of Blue Moon muffins downstairs for you to bring to Ms. Couleur. She said she's got some flowers that she thinks I might like." Dan smiled. "Ooo, what types?" Troye finished tying the knot and tossed keys to Dan. "She didn't tell me anything else other than they were a mix. So," he ran his fingers through the messy curls on his head. "I hope they have at least  _one_ rose."

 

"I'm sure they will. But yeah, sure. I'll go bring 'em down. Might see Philip out there."

 

They made their way down the stairs, the heat of the kitchen hitting them in the face. "Didn't he say that you could call him Phil?" Dan blushed. "Oh. yeah, he probably did say that. Still want to call him Philip, to be respectful, though."

 

"Dan. If your idol says directly to you that you can call them by the shortened version of their first name, then  _do it_." He put a finger in the middle of Dan's chest. "It's almost like you guys are married already. He even knew your name."

 

"What?! He did?"

 

"Yeah! You never noticed? He actually called you 'Daniel' at least twice. How do you think he knew?" Dan covered his mouth, shocked. "My fans. He saw their comments on his Instagram post and probably did some research. Oh no," He crouched on the floor, panicking. "That's not good. that's not good. What if he-" Dan quickly fished his phone out of his pocket, frantically checking his notifications, looking for any that caught his eye.

 

"Oh my gosh, Troye! Look what he did?" It came out more question then excited statement, he wasn't sure if this was actually real. "What?" Troye joined him on the floor and eagerly snatched the phone from Dan's hand. He scrolled through, eyes widening as he looked.

 

"Dan! Your cute,  _lucky_  little ass has got yourself a husband!"

 

"Hey! Just because he followed me on Instagram, Twitter, and subbed YouTube doesn't mean he's my husband." Troye shook his head sadly. "Dan, honey, you sad little starfish. Hush," he put a finger to Dan's lips as he tried to interrupt. "I'm not done. If someone you like follows you back on all or most of your social medias, it's the modern-day equivalent to getting married." Dan shook his head. "Well, this sad little starfish will leave you on this floor, as he has work to do."

 

Dan got up and snatched the plate of still-warm muffins from the countertop, taking his phone back from Troye. "Thanks, buddy. We'll chat later. Will you be ok with baking everything and managing the evening crowd?" Troye nodded, soothing his worries. Dan bit his lip, still thinking. "I'll repay you back one day!" He yelled as he exited the kitchen. His friend nodded and waved from the floor, jokingly telling him to be back my midnight or he'd be in trouble. "Fine, Dad," Dan sighed, the bell ringing behind him.

 

For November, it was pretty normal. Chilly enough to wear a jumper, but not quite full-winter wear weather. Today he was wearing his traditional ripped black jeans, with black high-tops and one of his favourite jumpers, an oversized (you guessed it) black one with printed red letters that read "hell was boring". On top of it all, he tugged a dark maroon beanie over his bedhead curls, which he hadn't bothered to fix. At least he'd stopped straightening his hair.

 

London moved around him, people trying to get to work, school, or wherever they were going.  _Amazing how everyone around me has a story that I'll never know. Kind of sad._ He walked quickly, trying to make the trade before he had to meet Philip at  _9:00._ Right now, it was... _8:45._ He had a little time, the walk there usually doesn't take too long. He followed the path they always use, one that's not too crowded. The bag bumped against his leg as he walked, anxious eyes flicking around.  _Maybe I'll see him. Maybe I won't. Ugh, stop wishing, Dan._

 

After another minute of walking, Dan reached the flower shop (named Couleur’s Bouquets) and opened the door, the smell of fresh flowers greeting him as soon as he walked in. No one else was in the shop yet, it opened at ten. He stood awkwardly, looking around at all the bouquets and masses of flowers. It was amazing how she even managed to keep every single one looking their best, without spending every waking moment tending to them. Dan loved plants, but he usually neglected the leafy ones (as he's learned through experience). Now he just has succulents and cacti dotting almost every available surface, may the aesthetic call for it.

 

"Hello, dear!" A woman's voice rang from the back of the shop. A head with curly white hair popped around the corner, blue eyes warm. "Oh, Dan, it's you. Welcome! Do you have the muffins I asked for?" He held out the plastic bag, box with a dozen inside. "Yep. Baked fresh this morning, too." She took the bag from him, his arm drop back to his side and messing with the hem on his jumper. "How's Mr. Sivan doing?"

 

"Oh, he's fine! Just staying back today to catch up on some work." 

 

"Ok, then. Tell him to not work too hard." She was in the back, looking for the arrangement she had promised in return. While she was looking around for the flowers, he checked his phone again, an anxious habit. The clock read  _8:51,_ and he had a new notification. He clicked on it.

 

**Philip Lester (@luustr)**

**@danielhowell heureux de vous voir aujourd'hui! Laisse Troye chez toi, s'il vous plait :)**

_Oh my gosh._

Dan could hardly believe it. First, he meets  _the_ Luustr in  _his_ bakery, then he  _talks_ (actually talks) to him, and now he's asking to be shown around London (which he's been to many times, mind you).

Which is insane, because he's just Daniel Howell, a guy with messy curls, dark humor, and who's always wearing black. He's someone who has anxiety issues, someone who runs a semi-popular YouTube channel, someone who is only a little speck and in the big scheme of things, doesn't matter.

So how the hell did he end up even talking to  _the_  Philip Lester?

Dan shook his head, smirk forming on his lips. He quickly looked around to see if Ms. Couleur was around, and when she wasn’t, he hurriedly translated the tweet, blushing when he read the english. He tended to read too much into things, but right now he could care less. Philip wanted to spend time with him and him alone. He sighed happily, holding his phone over his mouth, not noticing the footsteps.

"Talking to someone, Daniel?" She cocked an eyebrow. "Um, n-not really?"

 

"It's complicated?"

 

Dan nodded, more or less. She shrugged. "Well, your relationship status is none of my business. Just make sure they treat you well." Ms. Couleur winked and handed him the flowers. With an embarrassed "ok" he fled, wanting to quickly get back to the bakery in time to compose himself before Philip came over. He sure didn't want to be a complete stuttering mess when he spent actual time with just him.

 

His phone said  _8:55,_ so he walked quickly, almost running. (If Dan could run).  _I'm not going to make it, I'm not going to make it,_ His head repeated as he was stalled at a crosswalk, watching the cars pass by in a mix of anxiety and anger.  _I shouldn't keep someone as important as Philip waiting._

The light finally changed, letting him and the others waiting to cross, Dan sighed in relief. He might make it, with a minute or two to spare. He had the flowers held across his chest, bringing them up to glance them over.  _Wow. I didn't know most of these were still in season._ Dan sure wasn't a flower expert, but he did know a few things. The bouquet was composed of fresh, sun-yellow daffodils, red and orange roses (all in different stages of blooming), spotted fire-coloured tiger lilies, and even a few blue-and-purple morning glories and orchids, complete delicate bunches of white baby's breath.

_It's very pretty, all the sunset-like colours, mixed with some of the cooler blues and purples. Ms. Couleur sure does a good job with her bouquets. Honestly, I don't know how she doesn't get more recognition._

As he was walking along, carefully examining the flowers, he heard someone call his name, but he ignored it. The voice called again, laced with an accent.  _Is that French?_

"Daniel! Attends-moi!"

 

_Oh my god, that’s-_

 

He looked up and turned around just as someone came running into him. Dan's head knocked against their chest, the flowers caught between them. Dan stepped back, trying to put some distance between him and (probably) Philip. When he did, however, his foot slipped, causing him to lose his balance and fall back. Before he could hit the ground, one hand wrapped itself around his wrist, the other coming to grip him around his waist. Suddenly his fall was halted, and Dan cautiously opened his eyes, flowers dangling loosely in his fingers. "Oh," was all he could say. 

It was Phil who had caught him, but he didn't expect him to be leaning so close. He could see the cold wisps of breath that came out of his nose. Those eyes, icy, depthless pools, narrowed with the cold, gazed at him. That compiled with the concerned smirk he was wearing was really messing with Dan's head.  _Yep. Too close._

"Um. Hello."

Philip seemed to study him for a minute before snapping out of it, shaking his head, messing up the perfect quiff on his head. "Pardon," he muttered as he lifted Dan back onto his feet. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Dan smiled weakly, mind focused on the fact that Philip's hand was on his waist, and- _of course that's what you think about. Just ignore that he just saved you from faceplanting onto the pavement._ "S'fine. I was just on my way back to the bakery."

Dan liked the way Philip smiled. "Oh! Can I walk back with you, then? I was going there too, as you must know." His eyes gleamed from under the half-closed lids. "Who are those flowers for? I haven't known you for that long." It took Dan a minute to process what he'd meant. "Oh! Oh, no," He was blushing heavily again, like an idiot. "They're for the bakery." But when he looked at them, they'd been mussed up, the baby's breath torn and untidy; the roses and dandelions looking a little flat. "Well, they were. I don't know if I can put them out now. Shame, they were so pretty!" Frowning, he fingered through the mess, trying to clean it up. "Maybe I can put them in my room."

When Dan looked up again Phil had an expression of genuine guilt on his face. "Je suis vraiment désolé! I didn't mean to run into you like that." Philip's delicate hands joined his, trying to help him sort it out. When a petal broke with his gentle drag of his hands and landed on the sidewalk, Philip exhaled loudly, a cloud of icy breath melting into the air. "Ah. I am useless at this." Dan blinked, not used to this side of Philip. "It'll be ok," he almost whined, trying to comfort him. "Let's just go back to the bakery, yeah?"

Philip shot him a lopsided smile, black hair almost flopping into his eyes. "D'accord, montrer le chemin, Daniel."

Dan turned away, exhaling.  _I really need to learn french._

_-_

He stepped into the bakery, looking around for Troye. He'd be a little more then disappointed when he saw the state of the flowers. Dan would never be sent on a flower mission again.

"Troye? I'm back!"

His friend poked his head out of the kitchen, curls all out of order. "Hey, honey! Philip hasn't come by yet, maybe he's-oh," Philip smiled awkwardly from behind Dan, somehow still managing to look unashamedly perfect. "Um. I guess he's here now. But-" one of the oven's timers went off, Troye quickly excusing himself. The warm atmosphere quickly turned awkward, Dan starting to anxiously fiddle with a loose leaf hanging off the bouquet.  _I hate awkward silences. Say something, you idiot!_

"U-um, where are you interested in going t-today?"

_Oh, good going. Because I definitely didn't make a list. Totally._

"Well," Philip paused to think. "I'm not really sure. I've seen all the major places, the this-and-that." He waved his hand around, Dan nodding. "I want to go visit...like...spots I wouldn't normally think of when I see London. Places I haven't been." He walked around Dan, still talking, grabbing a chair from on top of a table and sitting it down, settling so his arms were resting on the back, and he was looking up at Dan. "This ok? I didn't ask if I could take it down, pardon, I'll put it back-" he started to get up but sat back down when Dan pushed him back down with two slender fingers. "You're fine."

They made small talk until Troye popped back out again, hair looking slightly more put together. "Ok, lads. What's the plan? Where are you planning on going?"

"Um..." Dan's knee started bouncing. "Want to look at my list?"

With affirmative hums from both parties he got his phone, opening the list and showing the screen to Philip and Troye, who had come up behind Philip and was leaning on the tabletop. Their eyes skimmed through, Troye occasionally making an  _ooo_ noise. "Good list," he said as he finished. Philip nodded as well. "I've been to a few, or heard of a few, but some of these are new to me." He smiled.

Dan felt himself unconsciously smiling back. He couldn't help it. "Do you want to get hot chocolates first, before we go? It's November 13, which means it's quite cold." Philip nodded and Troye ran off to make them, asking their orders. While he was busy, Philip turned back to Dan. "Are you warm enough in that jumper? I brought an extra, in case you needed it." He lifted his arm, the slim black bulk of a trench coat now showing. Dan hadn't noticed that before, he'd been caught up in those eyes.  _Ugh. That sounds like a cheesy, stereotypical fanfiction line._

"Oh. Um, I don't know?" It came out as more of a question than he intended. "Maybe? I can carry it," he feebly trailed off. Yeah, being out in London in the middle of November in just a jumper  _isn't_ the best idea, so it'd be better if he took it. Philip handed it over, but as soon as the silk-and-fleece fabric touched his hands he wanted to give it right back.  _This is probably more expensive than me. I can't wear this._ Dan didn't realize that he'd just voiced his self-conscious thoughts, and Philip was frowning worriedly, pity in his eyes.  _I hate pity._ "Dan, please. Don't worry about the price. It's ok."

Dan's eyes dropped to the floor, unable to meet Philip's gaze. He mumbled a few more words and twisted his hands together, letting them sit in silence until Troye came back, never oblivious to Dan's (sometimes) fragile mood. He didn't say anything, only switching worried glances with Philip, then set down their orders, intertwining his Dan's fingers with his own for a few seconds before wishing them a good day.

Steam rose off the cups, both sitting temporarily forgotten as Philip stared at Dan, head now resting on his arms. He was tense and shaking, shoulders pulled up, head hanging down, messy hair covering half his face. The trench coat hung limply in his grip; he seemed to be considering dropping it on the floor. "Dan?" Philip asked quietly. "Est-ce que tu te sens bien?"

His head slowly rose, his grip tightened as he seemed to attempt to shake off whatever had taken him over. "I'm fine," he finally murmured. "Just tired. Let me put these flowers in my room. I'll be right back." The emptiness in his eyes said otherwise, but Philip didn't comment, only nodded. Dan left, quickly disappearing, leaving a confused and worried Philip behind. When he returned, he looked a little better, a little less tired, though the empty look still lingered.

He was, however, wearing the coat, the fabric fitting well to his slim, slightly feminine shape. A small, hopeful smile decorated his face, going well with the curls and beanie.  _He's cute,_ Philip thought. "Ready to go, Philip?" Fingers clutched tightly at a button. Philip couldn't help but smile back. "Yeah. But remember what I said?"

"What?"

Philip pushed the door open, the November weather hitting them again. "Call me Phil."

They slipped in seamlessly with the crowd, looking almost identical from behind. "Oh. Ok. Um...Phil?" He sounded hesitant. "Would you like to go to Little Venice first?" Phil had never heard of the place, surprisingly, so he went along with it.

"Oui. Wherever you've got planned Dan."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for all the positive feedback so far! i'm glad we're all liking the story and i hope you'll like what i have in store for it ;)  
> edit: i will be shooting for **weekly updates** , most likely on **friday, saturday, or sunday**.
> 
> french in this chapter:  
> \- heureux de vous voir aujourd'hui! Laisse Troye chez toi, s'il vous plait: happy to see you today! leave troye at home, please  
> \- Attends-moi: wait for me  
> \- pardon: sorry  
> \- Je suis vraiment désolé: i am really sorry  
> \- Est-ce que tu te sens bien: do you feel good  
> \- Oui: yes  
> \- D'accord, montrer le chemin: ok, show the way  
>    
> \--extra--  
> \- sorry for the slightly abrupt cutoff! i want this part to flow smoothly and do some more research for the places they end up going.  
> \- for those of you wondering why troye called dan "honey", it's a sort of nickname/inside joke, they've known each other for years.


	4. four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is it only me, or does anyone else shake their shoulders when it goes from cold to warm? lol
> 
> as for the "Phil is not a YouTuber" tag: i guess he actually is, he's just a music channel hm should i change that?  
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **slight tw? starts with "when he was in a much darker place" and ends with "mixed with the-" might be slightly stressful for some**
> 
>   **disclaimer: none of the stores, shopes, cafes, delis or whatnot in here is real, i've made them all up. just a little less work and a little more imagination :) the tube stations are real, and so are the names of the places they visit.**

"You got your card?"

They were approaching King's Cross Station, famous for its involvement in the Harry Potter movies (which Dan loved to nerd out over, not that he'd ever admit that to Phil.) The morning crowds were gathering, people chattering all around them. Despite living in the city of London for seven years, he was still surprised at the amount of people who'd want to be out here in this cold.

Then again, here  _he_ was. Right now, he couldn't say anything about that.

"Yeah, it's right here-" he paused, taking in a bigger view of the station. The tan brick arches "Oh! Est-ce là qu'ils ont filmé des Harry Potter?" Dan laughed. "I have no idea what you just said, Phil. English, please?" Phil's delighted smile still adorned his face. "Pardon! I was wondering if this was where they filmed some of Harry Potter."

"Oh. Yeah! This is the place. Can't believe in all your little trips here you've never been here. This is like one of the most popular stations." Phil frowned. "I've been here, but I've never  _been_ here. Never enough time to just relax and look around." Dan wasn't shocked, he was an extremely popular and busy person.  _I'll make the most out of today for the both of us._ "Well, come this way, sir. Here it is, King's Cross Station." He spoke with a heavy, northern accent, doing a fancy little bow and holding out his hand in the direction of the busy station. Phil leaned in close and very nearly crooned in his ear. "Thank you, monsieur. I'll repay you later."

He stepped away, completely unaffected, save for a smirk and light blush on his face. Dan, however was a different story. Blush was heavily covering his cheeks, spreading down his neck. He stayed frozen in a bow, internally freaking out. Phil suddenly slapped his back. "Est-tu bon, Dan?" His voice held laughter. "Yep! Yep. Completely...est-tu bon," Phil huffed, shaking his head. "Ok." He spun on his heel and turned, walking towards the station, Dan flushing again and jogging to catch up and match his brisk pace. "Just to let you know, you just asked yourself if you were ok, all while telling me you were ok." He looked at Dan, smirking. "Oh. Um. I just assumed..."  _Ah shit. I fucked up._ Dan shook his head. "Never mind."

"I can teach you some french, you know."

"W-What? Why would you?" Dan was confused. They reached the doors, Phil muttering a  _merci_ as Dan held it for him. The temperature changed, Dan shaking his shoulders. "Because. We could have secret conversations in front of..." Phil tried to remember Troye's name. "Troye." Dan filled in for him. "Troye. And he wouldn't know." Faint crow's feet appeared when he smiled. "Why would we do that?" Dan muttered. "Isn't that what friends do?" Dan snorted. "What, have conversations about who would be the ultimate power couple?"

"Bingo!"

"Are you serious?"

"Nope."

"Then why do you want me to learn french?"

"... _Because._ "

Dan huffed. "Fine. I'll learn some." His answer made Phil clap happily.  _You're way different in person._  Too late, he'd realized he'd voiced his thoughts again. "What?" Phil asked. Dan blushed again, swiping his card, the  _beep_ letting him know he could pass. Phil followed closely behind, letting Dan form an answer. "Well," he started, Phil catching up to walk beside him. "In all your...public involvements...you seem to be, I dunno, slightly cut-off and cold. But also welcoming and friendly at the same time. Like-" Phil cut him off. "I get what you mean." His voice dropped to a whisper, so quiet Dan had to strain to hear it over the loudly chattering crowd. "I act like that a lot."

 _Maybe I should drop it,_ Dan thought.  _Seems like a sore subject. Why?_

"Oh." They continued in silence, Dan chewing on his lower lip, trying to think of something to break the silence. "Don't do that," Phil said. "It's not good for your lips." He quickly stopped, keeping his eyes forward. People passed on either side, chattering about family issues, pets, politics, some even talking about Christmas. "It's not even halfway through November, and they're already on Christmas." They'd just passed by a couple, the girl telling her boyfriend about some necklace she saw in a shop. "Shame. We've got to wait for the Americans to catch up, though, they're still on Thanksgiving." Dan laughed. "True. What do you want for Christmas, Phil?"

They stepped onto an escalator, letting it carry them down to the platforms.  _Platform four. We have five minutes._ He fiddled with a loose string inside his pocket, listening to Phil. "Hm. I haven't really thought about it. I don't need much, as you know. Maybe just someone to spend it with."

"Yes, Phil, all-powerful artist. Your fans would buy you a flat if you asked."

"Hey, trying to be humble here, monsieur. Yes, I'm sure they would, but I already like my flat in Battersea."

Dan gasped. "The Battersea Power Station apartments? Oh my god, you are lucky. Those are gorgeous." Phil scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, I know. Being popular has it's perks, I guess." Dan looked away. "Sure. And its downsides." Images flashed in his head of two years ago, when he was in a much darker place, the pressure of uploading and being  _Daniel Howell_ just stressing him out, making him crack and shatter like old glass.  _Troye's face, hands clapped over his mouth in surprise and fear, eyes spilling over with tears, hands fumbling to find his phone, holding to his ear, talking, other hand reaching out, stroking at his oily curls, sweat dripping off his forehead, mixed with the-_

Dan tripped, not having noticed the escalator’s end. Phil caught him again, one hand wrapped around his wrist, the other a burning brand at his waist.  _Again? And twice in one hour? Good job, you clumsy idiot._ "Caught you again. You kind of got lost in your thoughts, est-tu bon?" Dan jerked away, harder than he meant to, instantly regretting it when a hurt look flashed across Phil's face. Dan murmured a quiet  _sorry_ , eyes on the ground. He quickly turned around, letting Phil follow him at his own pace.

Soon, they reached platform four and Dan stopped, joining all the others waiting as he leaned against the brick of the column. Phil joined him shortly, not speaking. They didn't look at each other, making the silence drag out.

"We forgot our hot chocolate."

 _Oh shit. We did._ Dan pressed a hand to his forehead.  _It's too early to be dealing with this._ "Oh my god. We did. Troye's work is gone to waste now. He won't like that."

"Oh, Dan, it'll be alright."

_No it won't. It never is, for me. You'll leave me when you find out the real me._

Phil tried to break the silence again. "What about you, Dan? What do you want for Christmas?"

_The ability to pass tests. No anxiety. No pressure. A new and improved me._

"Um. Some new things for the bakery, maybe some more cacti. I don't usually get much for Christmas, other than some cookies and flowers from Troye. I've spent a lot of Christmases with him." Dan's mouth quirked into a smile as he thought of his best friend.

Dan wasn't looking but he could feel Phil's eyes burning into the back of his head, watching him. Phil hummed in response. The silence drew on, until Dan couldn't take it. He turned around, right in front of Phil. "Ok. Look. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm just-" The train's arriving squeal cut him off and his face fell. He hoped he'd explained enough, and by the look on the Frenchman’s face it looked like he did. "It's alright, Daniel. I've had bad days too. Is this ours?"  _You don't even know the half of it._ "Yep. It'll take about fifteen minutes, and only a minute or two to walk to Little Venice. I haven't been there too many times, so don't expect much guidance from me here. I'll see what I can do, though."

He forced a smile onto his face, slowly relaxing as they boarded, sliding onto the seats on the side. Phil immediately got out his phone, fingers moving at lightning-fast speeds as he did whatever he did. Dan got his out as well, more of an anxiety-reliever than to actually do anything. He didn't have to bring his phone, no one really texted him regularly enough. Usually, he only brought it to make it look like he was doing something. Today, however, a notification from Instagram floated (alone) at the top. Curious, he tapped his screen.

When it finally loaded-  _I should really get a new phone_ -he let out a small gasp, stupid blush dusting his cheeks again. It was a picture of him, taken side-profile and at close range. His eyes were focused downwards, beanie low on his head with curls popping out all over the place.  _I do have to admit, though, this trench coat makes me look way richer than I actually am. Looks pretty nice here too._ _Wait._

"Phil! Why'd you post this? I look terrible!"

"Non, tu ne pas. Parce que je peux. Arrêtez, tu es beau." Phil gave him a little pat on the shoulder. "I still have no clue what you're saying." He shrugged. "I guess you'll learn later." Dan huffed and focused his attention back on the screen, small smile on his face. He liked the post then closed the app, going to his Messages as several texts from Troye came in.

**troye: the gays came over! we're having a giant party ;) [ picture attached ]**

Dan smiled, laughing quietly. While they'd been gone, Troye had gotten Connor, Ryan, and Tyler to come over (what looks like) to bake. Troye was in the front with a huge smile, phone held to capture the others. Ryan had the classic peace sign and duckface while Tyler had his arms wrapped around Connor's shoulders, tongue almost on his cheek, which was decorated with chocolate.  _Oh, don't destroy the kitchen, please. I wiped it down last night._

**troye: hey i know what ur thinking dw i won't set it on fire. you left your drinks but we drank them and ryan spilled a bag of flour**

**troye: dunno what you're doing rn but here new concept?? [ video attached ]**

He clicked on the video, watching in confusion before realizing he needed his earbuds. As soon as he plugged them in he understood. Troye had been hit with the inspiration brick and decided to bring it to life. There were two batches of macarons, the first batch all fifty shades of grey ( **a/n: haha wow** ), mixed and swirled to look like the surface of the moon. The second ones were "...pastel, I thought we should put more softer colours in-hey get away from those! They're not cool enough!-in the bakery, so I made some light blue ones, sprinkled with sanding sugar to look like star fields! Maybe I could ice lines to make constellations? Ooo good idea, ok bye Dan have a good time!" The video ended with an absurd close-up of Troye's face, Dan couldn't help snorting.

"What'cha laughing at?"

Dan typed out a response to Troye before answering.

**dan: both are pretty amazing ideas mate! make more and see how many sell tonight. also tell ryan to clean up his own flour mess. you mess up the kitchen i will mess u up <3**

"Just talking to Troye." Phil peered over his shoulder. "Are those maca-" Dan clapped a hand over his mouth. "Hush! They're supposed to be new, secret ideas. Dammit, you're not supposed to know!" Phil grinned from under his hand. "I won't tell, Dan. Count on me." He winked, which on a moving train was more of a blink. "I trust you, but if you do tell anyone, you. Are. Dead." Dan removed his hand, grinning back. A ding announced their arrival at Warwick Avenue Station. Dan checked his phone one last time before putting it back in his pocket. Troye had responded with a ":))" and it was  _9:45am_.

"Here we are, Phil. Are you ready?"

The doors opened onto the platform, a whole new crowd of voices rising up. Phil nodded, hands clenching in excitement. "Do you mind if I buy some drinks for us here?" Dan's over-active imagination unhelpfully supplied fanboy-ish thoughts, he pushed those away. "Sure. Troye didn't seem too upset that we'd forgotten his. Said he and "the gays" drank them. Dan made air-quotes as they walked towards the stairs. "The gays?" Phil asked, copying him. "Oh. Yeah, 'the gays', also known as my friends. You might know them from YouTube, they've got their own channels. Tyler Oakley, Ryan Allen and Connor Franta."  _Crap. I don't even know his stance on lgbt._

Phil seemed to think for a few moments, leaving Dan anxious. Finally he responded. "I can check them out later." Dan smiled. "Remember to like, comment, and subscribe," he joked. "Toujours," Phil snickered, taking the steps two at a time. They broke out into the open air, fresh and full of new sounds and smells. "It's right this way," Dan turned, leading Phil to their destination.

"Now, don't spend all your money, ok? This isn't our only stop."

The tense air from earlier seemed to be clear, or they both knew they had things to say, but wanted to ignore it and have a good time. Maybe over hot chocolate.

"Ok, Dan. Je promets." Dan rolled his eyes. "Fine, whatever that means." He leaned over and grabbed a folded map from a stand next to the fence. "Ok." Dan quickly unfolded it as they walked. "We are here." He jabbed a finger on the map over a bright red star. "And all this-" he swept his hand over the map- "is Little Venice. There are plenty of pathways and trails for walking, but if you want a gondola ride they go all over the river." Dan traced the thick blue lines. "What do you say?"

"A little shopping first, then lunch and our next stop?" Dan nodded. "Alright. Just letting you know, our next stop is Camden Town, that'll take a little bit longer." Phil nodded and Dan folded up the map and stuck it in his back pocket, letting himself just enjoy this day with Phil.  _Which happens to be my freaking idol, what the fuck._

"Dan. Can I ask you something?" He sounded curious. "Go ahead." Dan looked to the left, watching a gondola float by. "How long have you been a...fan...of me?" He seemed hesitant, but insistent, like he needed to know. Dan swallowed nervously. "Um. 2015, I think? Troye and I were in Japan for a vacation and you happened to be there too, doing a concert, so he bought some tickets and took me." His mouth quirked into a smile. "It was really great. One of the best nights for me."

Phil seemed surprised. "2015? Impressive. Most people know me from 2016 when I released  _Jeunesse_." Dan shook his head. "Ok, yeah, great, but  _please_ don't see me as some stupid, star struck, crazy fan who's just trying to know your for fame. I actually want to get to know you as a friend, Phil. Not for money, or fame, but simply just because." Phil smirked, laughing a little. "Slow down there, Daniel. I understand. It's good to know, though. You're the first person to actually be like this."

"What?"

He waited for him to continue, but Phil didn't say any more, only looked ahead, avoiding his eyes.  _Does that mean everyone who's gotten close to him has either used him or betrayed him?_

For the first time in his life, Dan felt himself pity someone.  _Ah fuck. Go away, I don't need you. Useless emotion._ He didn't open his mouth again, both men walking in silence. Not until they reached a shop with charming little wood carvings did Dan break. "Oh, so detailed and pretty!" He broke off to run up to the window, eyes flickering around as he took in all the carvings. There were Christmas trees, angels, dogs, cats, drums, bells, ornaments, anything even remotely Christmas-themed, you name it. There were plain carvings and painted ones, some so detailed they had buttons and pupils. They were diverse in size too, Dan saw little drummer boys that could fit in his hand, to huge dogs that were about as big as his head.

"Want to go look inside?" Phil nodded, a sparkle in his eye. A bell, similar to the one at the bakery, rang out as they entered. Warm light illuminated the area and the soft smell of candles hung in the air, autumn-themed and a sharp contrast to the carvings in the window. A salesperson at the counter greeted them as they walked by, telling them that the small carvings were "buy one get one free". Phil nodded and thanked them, following Dan as he ventured further into the back of the store.

It wasn't very big, but the carvings changed in theme as they walked. It went from a mix of Christmas-fall in the front, to miscellaneous in the back. Here, there were little knickknacks, little doughnuts, charms, frogs, the lot. Up against the back wall, there was even a bear, standing proud on its back legs, mouth open in a ferocious roar. Dan was admiring the detail in the fur when he felt hands clamp down on his shoulders, and he yelled in surprise, jumping. "What the-"

Dan spun around to see Phil doubled over, shoulders shaking with laughter. "Y-you should've seen yourself jump! What were you even doing that would cause you not to hear me? I even almost tripped over the rug!" Phil continued to laugh, the rich sound filling the back room. Dan put a hand to his chest, trying to recover his breath.  "Goddammit, Phil, what was that for?" He glared angrily at him, only for the glare to fade into embarrassed look at the floor.

"I wanted you to smile, Dan. You'd been off all morning so I wanted to cheer you up."

Dan's eyes flickered down to the floor and an expression somewhere between grateful and confused. "Oh," he mumbled. "Thank you."

Dan stayed, shifting from foot to foot until Phil tapped him on his shoulder. "I'm going to buy this." He held up a carving, an unpainted one. It was four cats in a row, all sleeping, sitting or playing. "Aww, how cute! Do you like cats?" Phil nodded. "Something like that. Do you want anything?"  _Hm. Quick change of topic._

"I'm not sure, I might look around for a bit. You don't have to wait for me, you can go and walk around outside if you want." Phil seemed to consider it before agreeing, and Dan handed him the map. "I'll try not to take too long, but no promises." Phil laughed. "D'accord, Daniel. À plus tard." With that and a warm smile, he turned and left. Dan heard him talk to the cashier before the bell rang, a cold breeze hanging in the space he left. Dan's mouth quirked into a small smile before turning back to the shelves, letting his fingers lightly trace over the carvings as he walked.  _Maybe I could ask Troye for an opinion._

_-_

**troye: okok good choices! get something for me or i won't offer you a moon macaron when you get back :))**

**dan: lol like i wasn't already going to buy you something. gonna go check out now bye**

_Good job, Dan. You only spent a frickin' hour in here._ He walked up to the counter, carefully dumping everything in front of the surprised storekeeper. Five minutes later, he was standing outside in the fresh air, sun hitting his face.  _Time to find Phil._ "I don't have his number," he mumbled in realization. "Of course I don't, he's only known me for a day or two." Sighing, Dan found a bench to sit on and slumped down, swiping through his phone, trying to think of a way to contact Phil.

_ding_

Dan clicked on the notification, expecting a text from Troye. Instead it took him to his Twitter DM's, where a new message had popped up.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): Bonjour! I hope you don't mind me wondering, but text back when you're done! Then we can continue on our quest. See you in a bit! :)**

Dan's breath caught in his chest, and he coughed.  _The Philip Lester is in my DM's. Am I dreaming? What the fuck._ Carefully, he replied.

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): sure! i just finished, i'm on a bench right outside the store**

He responded almost instantly.  **Ok! I'm not very far, I'll see you in a few minutes.**

Dan didn't respond, only ran a hand through his hair. "I wonder what he's done," He muttered to himself.

There were no new messages from Troye, so he decided to lock his phone and wait for Phil.  _11:05am._

The sun was peeking out from behind the clouds, somewhat driving away the cold weather. People wandered about, chattering on and on about anything they could set their minds to. The river was busy behind him, gondalas slowly making their way down the waterway, people inside occasionally pointing something out on the riverbank above. Little Venice was full of life, something Dan was not. The bench creaked suddenly as someone else sat down, their weight getting closer to Dan. He was about to tell them to go away, but when he turned and opened his mouth, it wasn't a stranger, it was Phil, head leaning on one hand, amusement in his eyes. "Hey."

"Hi." Dan closed his mouth and smiled.  _That sounded like borderline flirting._ "D-Did you get to see anything else?" He asked instead. Phil looked down and nudged a bag that was leaning on his leg. "Yep. Just a few things." Dan arched an eyebrow. "A few things? Does that really mean a few things, or more?" By the sheepish look on his face, Dan guessed it was a little more than "just a few". "Phil! I told you to save your money!" He wacked him on the arm. "What about Camden Town, Brick Lane, or Seven Dials?" A look of astonished excitement flickered over his features. "Seven Dials! The most magical place-in my opinion-to spend your life savings at, at Christmas." He sighed contentedly. "Have you ever been during Christmas? Please say no. I want to take you."

"Non, Dan. I haven't been."

"Good! That is the only time I will ever be glad you haven't been somewhere."

Phil laughed. "Where do we plan on going today?"

"Besides Little Venice? I was planning on Camden Town, but I'm not sure where else after-" His phone dinged with a text.

**troye: hey, sorry to bother you, but we were wondering if you and phil wanted to meet up at a restaurant around 5 then go on the eye? i'm about to book tickets for six if you want to join, but if you don't that's fine ;)**

Dan rolled his eyes.

**troye: *we, as in me, connor, tyler, and ryan**

"Hey, Phil, would you be interested in dinner and a trip in the London Eye tonight, courtesy of Troye? The others would be joining us as well." Phil scooted up until their legs were touching and leaned over his shoulder. "Who are the others?" Dan held his breath, sitting still. "Connor, Ryan and Tyler. My friends. And Troye, of course." Phil nodded, hair brushing his cheek. "Evening plans sorted, then." Dan managed to breathe out an  _ok_ before texting Troye back.

**dan: sure! we'll be there :) where do you want to meet**

He spent a few moments distracted at Phil, who was still perched over his shoulder. Right now, he was currently leaning on one hand, the other messing around on his phone. His friend finally responded back and he desperately grabbed on to the interruption.

**troye: uh maybe stop by the bakery and we can all head down there together? if you can't then maybe just the area in front of the eye, i can text you then. enjoy your date :P**

**dan: you ass**

"Dan! Look!"

Dan's attention snapped from his screen, automatically looking up, right into an iPhone camera. "Cheese!" Phil said, a peace sign held right next to his ear as he snapped the photo. "Merci!"

"Phil! Again?" Dan's mouth was open in indignation. "Oui. Ferme ta bouche, vous pouvez attraper des mouches." One hand continued typing, the other came up and pushed his chin up, effectively closing his mouth and shutting him up. Despite Dan's poking and prodding he never said another word, only posting the photo on Instagram, Dan's phone dinging with the notification. "Fine. Whatever. Do you want to take a gondola ride?"

Phil smiled, bright blue eyes crinkling. "Sure! Then you said...Camden Town for lunch?" Dan rolled his eyes. "Wherever you want to go, Phil."

Ten minutes later, Dan was paying to rent a private gondola, refusing Phil's insisting. "No, Phil," he'd said as he'd handed over the money. "I'm showing you around today. My treat." He'd given up, and now they were gliding smoothly through the water, bags pushed together in the middle, while they sat on opposite sides. After a few minutes of silence, Phil spoke. "Can I sit next to you?" Dan was surprised. "Why?" Phil tilted his head. "Am I not allowed to sit next to you. Daniel?"

"N-No, maybe just a little dangerous to move too much in a small boat like this?" He started to protest. "Maybe you should stay ov-" The boat rocked as Phil moved, the attendant turning around to see what was going on. Phil waved him off and picked his way over the bags, tripping over a red one from a shop Phil must've been to earlier and fell forward, one foot planted behind him, the other bent and kneeling on the bench. His arms had landed on either side of Dan, caging him in. Piercing ice-blue eyes stabbed into his own, lips dangerously close to his own, eyes narrowed in a flirtatious gaze.

"Bonjour encore, Daniel."

 _Ohmyfuckingwhatthefuckishedoing-He's so close._ Dan was sure his face had never been a brighter shade of crimson. He whined, the sound quiet but meaningful.  _I am uncomfortable, please get off of me._

Phil took the hint and without a change to his expression rolled to the side, settling next to Dan, leaving some distance. He sat, humming contentedly, while Dan clutched at his chest, trying to slow his breathing down. He was too hot, he felt like it was suddenly sweltering in the trench coat and beanie. He grabbed the beanie from his head, tossing it into the middle with the rest of their things, then quickly unbuttoned the coat, peeling it off his arms as fast as he could without ripping it. Once it was carefully laid to the side, he exhaled deeply, dropping his head and running his hands through brown curls. Phil looked on worriedly. "Are you ok, Dan?"

"I was just too hot, it's close to noon anyway." Dan looked to the side, turning away from Phil. "Ok," Phil said hesitantly, not fully believing him. Dan was slouched, exhausted. He rolled the sleeves of his black jumper to his elbows.  _Why did he do that? Was that planned or on accident?_

Dan didn't know his status on relationships, lgbt+, or anything of that matter. For all he knew, he could be the straightest person you'd ever meet. Maybe it wasn't his fault that he was so, what's the word,  _flirtatious,_ but he couldn't help but be attracted to him. Phil was very charismatic, being a popular artist he should know his way with people, but there was nothing manipulative about him, only sincerity and honestly that could be a  _smidge_ too strong at times. Maybe Dan could help tone him down.

Dan turned back, looking at Phil, who was turned opposite to Dan, looking the other way, presumably giving him space.  _He probably thinks I'm a total weirdo who overreacts. Maybe I should tell him about my anxiety sometime._ Dan smiled and scooted closer to Phil, pretending to not notice as Phil looked over at him, relief written on his face.

"Hello again, Daniel. I am sorry about how I acted earlier-"

"Hush. We went on this to have a good time, yes?" Phil nodded. "Then let's do that."

Dan leaned over Phil's shoulder, peering down at the water below. Phil let his hand hang down, fingers lightly trailing though the water and leaving a small trail. Dan copied, putting his hand next to Phil's.

"Ready for tonight?"

"Oui, je suis surexcité!"

Dan laughed. "Phil. You really need to teach me some french. I feel left out."

"Je vais, ne stresse pas."

Dan rolled his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told you phil was a flirt
> 
> ya'll if i could draw people you'd bet i'd be drawing whole fucking character sheets with sides of scenes from here. the butter on the whole-wheat roll from school lunch. but, surprise! i can draw cats and that's about it :))))
> 
> thank you for all the love! it means a lot <3  
> comments help me improve and kudos are appreciated x
> 
> (want to suggest a oneshot for these guys? just comment below, i've made this a series to accomidate that!  
> the 5 days leading up to the 25th of december, i'll be posting daily small drabbles with everyone!)
> 
> French in this chapter:  
> \- Est-ce là qu'ils ont filmé des Harry Potter: Is that where they filmed Harry Potter  
> \- monsieur: mister, mr  
> \- Est-tu bon: are you good  
> \- Non, tu ne pas. Parce que je peux. Arrêtez, tu es beau: No, you don't. Because I can. Stop, you are handsome.  
> \- Toujours: always  
> \- Je promets: I promise  
> \- D'accord...À plus tard: ok...see you later  
> \- Oui. Ferme ta bouche, vous pouvez attraper des mouches: Yes. Close your mouth, you can catch flies  
> \- Bonjour encore: hello again  
> \- Oui, je suis surexité: yes, i am excited  
> \- Je vais, ne stresse pas: i will, don't stress


	5. five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'know everytime i think of dan howell as a musician i see him as the lovechild of 2015-2016 troye sivan x shawn mendes
> 
> WHOO! I have midterm exams this week and I haven't studied. wish me luck oof
> 
>  
> 
> **all stores, shops, and cafés are made up! Camden Town/Camden Passage is real.  
> **   
>  **tw?: in-depth talk of social anxiety**

"Dan! You walk too fast. Wait for me!"

The only response was Dan's laughter. "I told you not to buy so much! How much money did you spend?" Phil's reply was careful. "Let's not talk about that." Dan laughed again and slowed down, letting Phil catch up with him. "We still have Camden Town to explore, then maybe something close before we meet up with the others." Phil shifted his bags as he walked, silently regretting those last few shops. "You good there, Phil?" The man looked uncomfortable, but he only shook his head. "Je vais bien."

They made it back to the station with seconds to spare, boarding the train. This time, it was less crowded, only a few people were sitting or standing, all on one side of the car, while the other half was completely empty. Dan made a beeline for said side, sitting the corner seat and dumping his bag on the seat next to him. Phil followed, all four bags slipping from his hold and falling to the floor. "God, Phil. You might have a problem." Dan reached out to sweep the contents of one back into the red bag, pausing to look. "Is this-" Phil didn't give him a chance to finish, reaching down and shoving the item into the bag, out of sight. He looked up and Phil, who seemed to have a protective and flustered expression on his face. Dan didn't ask him about it, he didn't want to push his boundaries.

Phil set the bag back upright and stood, holding onto the bar on the top. "How long will it take to get there, Dan?"

Dan looked up from his phone. "About half an hour, but we have a few stops on the way." Then he frowned. "I'm sorry this isn't much of a tour. We're only going a few places today, I wish I could show you around more-" Phil cut him off, slight smile on his face. "It's fine, Dan. I'm in London for three months, so I've got time." He paused. "Well. Only if you want to keep showing me around, I should've asked, pardon."

Dan could hardly believe his ears.  _Philip Lester wants to stick around? With me?_ He could barely keep the awestruck tone out of his voice. "I'd be glad to."

Phil laughed but Dan didn't even care.  _Am I really this important or fun to be around?_

They spent the rest of their ride alternating between making small talk and fooling around on their phones, Dan even checking the posts Phil had made of his surprise pictures on Instagram. The comments were a mess, french and english some he didn't know, but could only assume were something from eastern Asia. Most of them were mildly (read: extremely invested) in wondering and figuring out who he was. Some seemed to know who he was, even if only his name. He was surprised at that, he wasn't aware that their audiences overlapped at all. The picture of him and Phil with the peace sign was the most popular so far, it already had almost 800 thousand likes. Apparently it was so well-liked people had started giving them ship names. He blushed and furiously scrubbed at his face to try to hide it.

_I'm just Dan. Depressed and anxious-as-fuck Dan, not shipped-with-my-idol Dan! I'm supposed to be listening to luustr in my room, waiting for him to upload another song, I'm the one who's supposed to stalk him on social media, not the other way around! Why and how did he even end up at Blue Moon?  There are plenty of other, better bakeries around._

He pressed his lips together and clicked over to his profile, mouth nearly dropping open as he saw his follower count. It had gone up so drastically that Troye had noticed, texting him a  _congrats!_ Dan didn't know what to make of it.

One of the things Dan despised was getting something he felt like he didn't deserve. He didn't deserve all these new followers, he didn't do anything. He just appeared in a few of some famous idols' photos, and suddenly people are interested in him. He quite liked his little community he had built, so close-knit and honest. All these new people only followed him not because they like his content, or because they relate or genuinely like him, but because they want to keep tabs on him and see what happens with him and Phil.

He hated it.

Dan closed out of the app and locked his phone, shoving it in his pocket. He was disgusted. He didn't deserve it, he sure didn't want it. But he'd keep quiet, he didn't want to complain to Phil. Phil couldn't understand, being an international sensation and all. It was a wonder they hadn't gotten recognized in the streets yet. "Phil, how do you-"

When he looked up, he stopped, confused at the man in front of him. "Phil, what the hell are you doing? This is a train, not a strip club!"

Phil was wrapped around the pole in front of him, using his hands to propel himself around. Phil laughed as he twirled, Dan desperately trying to get him to stop. "Phil, you're not supposed to pole dance on the tube," he whined. "That's not-" Phil cut him off. "What, am I not allowed to have fun?"

"We're in public, Phil." Now it was his anxiety talking, not him.

"So?" He was now spinning, one leg hooked around the bar. "People stare at me everywhere I go, what's the difference?" Dan couldn't help shrinking back at that.  _Of course. He's not wrong._ He sighed and dropped it, letting Phil continue his little dance. Dan just watched him, not wanting to open his phone again just yet. Suddenly, the train took a turn, causing Phil to let go of the metal and stumble across the floor. Dan snorted and dropped his head in his hands, listening to Phil mumble in french. With a scuff of shoes Phil was sitting next to him but Dan still didn't look up.

"Oops." Phil laughed and Dan looked up,  _what the hell is wrong with you_ written all over his face. Phil laughed again, looking indifferent. "I don't know you."

"Yes, you do. If you didn't, you wouldn't be leading me around London." Dan sighed, unable to take him seriously. "I'm joking." Phil nodded back and they sat in comfortable silence until they heard the murmur of crowds from Oxford Circus Underground. The train slowed to a stop and the doors opened, a new flow of people coming in. They quickly grabbed their things and got off, dodging people as they went. Several times, Dan had to call Phil, he kept lagging behind.

"Phil!" Dan looked around.  _Is he lost again?_ Sure enough, he could see the black hair above the crowd, at least a dozen people back. When he finally caught up, Dan sighed. "Where do you keep going, and how?" He looked over and Phil looked a little overwhelmed. "It's busy here." Dan was confused. "It's only Oxford Circus, Phil. I'm sure places you've been and concerts you've done have worse crowds than this." He didn't mean for it to bite, but it looked like it did.  _I'm sorry._

"The next train leaves in five minutes, so we'll have to be quick." Phil nodded. "Hey, Dan... if fall behind again, what will you do?" Dan snorted. "Leave you for the rats." Phil arched an eyebrow. "Really? So..." He trailed off as he slowed down letting the crowd swallow him up. With a muttered  _for fuck's sake_ Dan turned around and went back to get him, grabbing onto the black sleeve of his coat and tugging him along, all the way to their gate.

Thankfully this train was crowded, Phil couldn't do anymore pole dancing. That also meant that Dan was stuck in an enclosed space with complete strangers, with a rising level of anxiety. He started to sweat, eyes darting around. Every whisper, every laugh, every glance seemed directed at him, all of them judging. He tensed up, eyes locked on the exit. When he started to shake, Dan knew he had to calm down, he wasn't about to have an anxiety attack on the train. 

_4-7-8. 4-7-8. 4-7-8._

When he felt his racing heart start to slow, he opened his eyes. Dan was still anxious, but not so much that he'd collapse on the train. He readjusted his grip on the bags, sweaty hands unable to hold them properly. When he looked around again (trying not to make awkward eye contact with people), he met Phil's curious gaze, the blue eyes full of curiosity and concern. Phil opened his mouth to ask if he was ok, but Dan nodded.  _We'll talk over lunch._

Luckily, the last two train rides were less crowded, but Dan didn't have the energy to talk to Phil, so he just fooled around on his phone the entire time. Phil even sent him a text, asking if he was ok. (Dan responded that he'd tell him over lunch. Phil said ok.) After Dan had texted Troye about the incident (he wanted to record it) they were getting of the train at Angel Station. Dan had to tug Phil along with him again, not wanting to deal with the stress of losing him. They reached the surface, the warmer (but still cold) air hitting them in the face. Dan felt calm.

"We're here! Camden Town is this way. Don't you even  _think_ of falling behind." Phil huffed, but agreed not to. "What do we plan on doing here?" He asked as they walked. "Lunch. Maybe some shopping.  _Maybe_ ," Dan enunciated the last word. "I say you've already bought too much. Your bank account might be able to handle a lot more but I don't think you can." Phil scoffed and Dan rolled his eyes. "How about this. Window shopping. Look, but don't touch."

"That's what I have to tell people all the time. Don't touch this work of art." He put on a lofty expression at the statement. Dan scrunched up his face in fake discomfort at the bad joke. "Oh. My. God. Yeah, I think it's the best idea to keep your fragile little fingers to yourself, or you might break." Phil laughed, tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth. Phil started to drift away, Dan caught hold of his sleeve and pulled him back, anxiety spiking. "Stay close, please." Understanding, Phil let himself be pulled along, mumbling "chose sûr" in response. The closer they got to Camden Town, the more anxious Dan got. Camden Town was much busier in the afternoon, it was a popular place for tourists.

"Ok, Phil. Are you capable of keeping a low cover? Not sure how many people here might recognize you." Phil nodded, awkwardly digging something out of one of his bags, then shoving it on his head. "Oui. Aimez-vous?" Dan smiled. "Looks great." It was a knitted grey beanie, contrasting wonderfully with his dyed black hair.

"Well, here we are. Camden Town, London. Popular shopping district with a side of colourful nightlife."

Camden Town was brick buildings and colour. Not one building was plain; murals, street art and graffiti adorned everything. Sculptures of dragons, of robots and anything in between dotted the sidewalks and sides of buildings. Signs in green, yellow, blue, turquois, red, and rainbow were everywhere, advertising tattoos, cafés and shops. People were everywhere, going in and out of shops and restaurants, walking, talking, living, breathing. Dan looked over at Phil, who was gazing around in wonder. "C'est très incroyable!" He tugged on Phil's sleeve again. "Comon, there's a lot more to explore. Plus I'm hungry." Phil followed willingly.

They paraded through the streets, taking in all the sights and sounds. It was a pretty day, sunshine with a light breeze. Phil had even shed his coat, which was now draped over his arm (he insisted on carrying it himself.) Underneath, he was wearing a simple black-and-white striped long sleeve. Dan still couldn't believe that he was with his  _idol. Out shopping._

"Ooh, what about pizza? Is that good?" He'd just spotted a nearly-empty pizza parlour a few buildings down. It had an iron sign that was rocking freely back and forth. Two sets of tables and chairs sat outside, one filled by a couple with a toddler. Phil nodded and Dan let go of his sleeve to open the door, the rich smell of cheese, tomatoes, bread and spices meeting them as they walked in. The girl at the cash register greeted them, a cheerful  _hello_ ringing around the space. Windows at the front let sunlight pour in, coating everything in a natural glow. The floor was tiled, checkered black-and-white. Plush red booths lined the right wall, each table decorated with menus and pepper shakers. Colourful arrays of cacti lined shelves on the wall, standing out against the white walls. Dan immediately took to the quaint little place.

"Do you want to go sit down?" Phil murmured a quiet  _oui_ and led him to a booth near the back. He slid in as far as he could, piling everything next to him. Dan sat opposite, tapping his fingers on the tabletop. He picked up a menu, skimming through it. Nothing looked too pricey. "Dan, um, you might have to order for me." Dan looked up, swallowing anxiously."W-Why?"  _Great job, idiot. Already stuttering._ "Because...well...I'm  _me._ I'm a popular music artist, and I don't know who could recognize me. She might, and I don't even know her, but I don't want to have people coming around just for me and bothering you as well. I want this to be a calm day, about me and you." He fiddled with the edge of the menu, mind racing.  _I can't do it. I can't do it._

"S-Sure. I can do it."

Phil's face broke into a grateful smile. "Merci, Dan! I'm sorry I have to cause you all this trouble, I-" Dan cut him off. "It's fine."  _It's not fine._ He shot him another grateful glance before inching his way out of the booth, navigating around his things. "I'm going to go sit in the bathroom for a few minutes, then. You can text me when you're done."  _Don't leave._ "Wait!" Phil stopped. "Can you write down what you want?"  _So I don't make a fucking fool of myself._ "Oh, um, sure." Phil took the small notepad and pen Dan had in his fingers and scribbled down his order. "Merci encore." Dan tried to smile, watching as he disappeared behind a door.  _Don't fuck this up. He's so inconsiderate, having you order. I can't do this. I can't do this._

The girl from the counter walked over, blonde ponytail swinging and paper pad in hand. "Welcome to Mazarati's. What can I get you today?"

For a solid five seconds, Dan didn't say anything. His mouth was dry, he couldn't find the words to speak, they'd all fled the moment she opened her mouth. Finally, he cleared his throat and spoke. "I-I'll have a small veggie pizza minus the hot peppers, a-and he'll have..." Dan tried to speak over his thumping heart, but he couldn't. His fingers started methodically scratching at his wrist.  _The notepad._ He looked down, barely being able to read Phil's chicken scratch. "He'll have the chicken pizza with the onions a-and olives." She finished jotting it down then asked for drinks. Dan froze, Phil didn't say anything about drinks.

"M-m...maybe just two waters." She nodded, thanking him and saying their orders would be out in a little bit. Dan exhaled with relief, shoulders dropping. The aftereffects washed over him; a slight cold chill, shaky breathing and a weak feeling in his stomach.  _I did it. I ordered by myself._ To anyone else, this would be the smallest, stupidest thing to be elated over. But to someone who got freaked out over simply starting a conversation, it was a big deal. Dan felt proud.

Suddenly his phone buzzed, reminding Dan of Phil, who was currently sat in the bathroom. Hands shaking, he grabbed his phone.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): hey are you done ordering?**

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): yeah**

Phil didn't respond, instead appearing in front of Dan. He took one look at his face and sensed something was off. "Hey. Pardon for leaving you like that. Are you feeling well? You look pale." Dan tried to smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. His voice was soft. "I can explain, if you want me to." Now curious, the black-haired man nodded. "Oui." They spent the next half hour in silence, neither of them sure what to say. When the girl came back with their orders, Phil ducked his head, leaving Dan to deal with it. She slid two fresh, steaming pizzas in front of them, then set two glasses of water in the middle of the table. When she left, Dan was already lifting a piece to his mouth.

"Dan? That looks really hot-"

He took no notice of Phil's concern, biting into the steaming piece of pizza. "Oh my god," he nearly moaned to Phil's shock. "This is great." Phil was laughing, covering his mouth with his hand. "What? It's not that hot." Dan was confused. "Try some." Phil tentatively touched the crust on his, flinching back. "Oh, you big baby. "It's not that bad. Here." Confidently, he picked up the slice, stretching it high to get rid of all the extra cheese. "It's fine." Phil took it from him, quickly taking a bite and setting back down. Dan sighed, finishing off his own slice. After taking a napkin from the pile on the table, he looked at Dan. "So. Tell me about yourself."

Put on the spot, he froze. Anxiety started rushing through his veins. "W-What?"

"Tell me about yourself. I'm curious." Dan took a deep breath. "Ok...um, not much to know. My name is Daniel Howell, though people know me as Dan. I turned 26 in June, I have two YouTube channels, one that I share with Troye. That's more like our joint channel for the bakery. Troye Sivan is my childhood best friend and business partner, we started Blue Moon together 2016, and it quickly got popular. We had trouble with fans always coming in, asking for pictures, but we found ways to take care of that." Dan had been looking at his pizza the entire time he was speaking.  _I honestly have no idea what he'll think of me. I already know I'm not good enough for him._ "I...I go to a cooking school on certain days of the week, Troye runs the bakery then. I've been doing YouTube since 2012. I have 6.5 million subscribers on my main channel, though I guess that number has grown because of you." Dan's voice had a bitter tinge towards the end. "Did I do something?" Dan looked up, alarmed. "No! No, it's just..." He rubbed his curls in frustration. "Ever since you posted those photos to Instagram, ever since you started to even associate with me, my following counts on every single platform I have skyrocketed, and I feel like I don't deserve it. I didn't even do anything to gain them! I-" He stopped, tugging at his curls. "I don't deserve them. I have to work to earn them, I'm not a 'sit-still-look-pretty' person. And I... I  _hate_ it."Dan knew his expression wasn't happy anymore, but once he got riled up it was hard for him to stop.

"Daniel. Regarde moi." When he didn't, Phil tapped the table in front of him.  _Oh my god, he's going to think I'm one of those crazy fans just out for attention. Just one of those people who make sob stories for attention._ _Fucking hell-_ "C'est bon. Je comprends. Je ne peux pas expliquer leurs actions, seulement qu'ils me suivent et ils me respectent. Si tout, c'est mon faute." He smiled weakly, unsure. Dan took several deep breaths, calming himself down. "I'm sorry Phil. There's a few things about me that most people don't understand or get fed up with." Phil looked at him curiously, willing him to continue. Dan bit his lip, knee bouncing up and down anxiously. "C'est bon, Daniel." With a deep breath, Dan spilled.

"I've got social anxiety." When Phil didn't react, he continued. "It's a mental condition. It causes me to have moderate to extreme anxiety in social settings. I always feel like people are watching or judging me. I feel under a constant pressure to be perfect and keep a low profile, so no one pays attention to me. It's more than just mental, though. It has physical symptoms and side effects. I get really sweaty, I can start to shake, it gets hard for me to talk, I might get cold chills or even feel physically sick." Phil was still quiet. "I hate social situations, to a point where I'll go out of the way to avoid them. I always feel like I'm being judged, watched and criticized. I don't act out for fear of being humiliated, I don't tell people because I don't want them to worry about me. I hate attention."

_What's he going to think? Oh my god, I just spilled one of my most personal issues to an almost complete stranger. Maybe this was a complete mistake._

When he'd finally built up the courage to look at Phil, he was gazing back, a new clarity in his blue eyes. "Oh. Ok."  _Ok? Is that all he's going to say? This was a mistake, I knew it._ "Earlier, on the train. You looked panicked. I was wondering what was...going on. This clears things up." He tenderly picked up another piece of his pizza. "Y-You're ok with it?" He couldn't believe it. He wasn't shunned, pushed aside, or forgotten, which was what normally happened. "Oui. Why wouldn't I be? I know everyone's got their little quirks and such, it's not my place to judge. It's not anyone's place to judge, but I don't have any say over that."

Dan was so happy he could cry.  _I've only ever told Troye and Connor about this. And now Phil, I guess. But what if he takes it and spreads it, or uses it against me? No, he wouldn't. No, he might. I need to make sure._ "Um, weird question. But you won't...spread this or use it against me? I don't know why you would, but I was just wondering, cause it's almost happened before, so-" He was interrupted. "Dan. I'd never use anything you say against you. I'm not that kind of person." He looked offended before realizing something. "Are you anxious about it?" Reluctant, Dan nodded. "Ok. Don't worry, I promise I'd never do that. I don't do those types of things." He smiled again and Dan felt his worries melt away. "Ok. Thank you." He relaxed back into the booth, picking up another pizza slice. "What about...you?"  _It's only fair, right?_

"Ok. I'm sure you know a lot about me already, though." Dan blushed and muttered, trying to cover it up with a pizza slice. Phil laughed. "Don't worry. It's fine. Je m'appelle Philip Lester, j'ai 30 ans, et je venais de Paris, France." Dan nodded. "I started making songs in 2014, though I really started to get noticed with  _Jeunesse_ in 2016. I was 27 then. Didn't always live in Paris, though." Dan was surprised. "Really?" The other nodded. "Yeah. My hometown is a commune on the Southern coast of France, right against the Mediterranean Sea. Me, my mother and my brother moved to Paris when I was ten for better opportunity and education."

Dan wasn't sure what to say, he had several questions but frankly he wasn't sure if they were appropriate to ask. "I didn't know that," he decided to settle for. "Mhm. I don't tell everyone things like that."  _Heh. I feel special. Not in a boastful way, in a good way._

They fell into a comfortable silence, just enjoying their pizza. The girl only came around once more, asking if they needed water refills. When they were done, Dan went up to pay while Phil gathered his things. When they finally exited the restaurant, Dan looked at Phil. "Are you sure you don't want to drop those off at the bakery? It wouldn't be too much work. Actually, no arguments. After we window shop we are  _going back to the bakery_ and you are  _leaving your stuff there._  Ok?" Phil rolled his eyes. "Très bien."

-

Dan quickly stepped into the bakery, letting Phil in as fast as he could. He grabbed his wrist and, ignoring the curious glances of the few customers, pulled him along into the kitchen. Once they were through the doors and safely hidden, Dan let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "Wow," he whispered. "Some people have eagle eyes, huh?" Phil didn't respond, only nodding. They were so caught up in getting their breath back then noticing Troye, who had an extremely confused expression on his face and floured hands. "Guys. What the  _hell_ are you doing in the kitchen? Why do you have so many bags? Why are you so out of breath? Why-"

Dan ignored him, cheeky smile on his face. "Why are your hands covered in flour, Troye?" His expression was priceless, he looked completely fed up with Dan. "I'm making cookies, you dimwit. I am also about to dust your face in flour if you don't answer my questions." Dan leaned back against the wall, exchanging glances with Phil. "We got spotted by some fans. And ran." He laughed. "You what?!" Troye's mouth dropped open. "You ran from fans? Ran? Why the hell did you run?" The oven beeped and he stared at Dan for a few moments longer before focusing his attention on the oven. "Well. Ah, they didn't recognize me, but they did recognize Phil and he just bolted. Wow. That's the most exercise I've gotten in months." Troye dropped a tray of muffins on the countertop with a  _clang_. "You guys are insane."

Dan laughed. "Well, we stopped by to drop off the things we'd bought. Especially him." He pointed at Phil's stack. "Oh! I forgot! You got the carvings?" When Dan nodded, Troye clapped happily, turning to take the muffins out and lay them on a cooling rack to take to the display case. "Great go put them up in the apartment and come back, I need help at the register. Phil, Dan can take your bags up as well, but you can wait anywhere you want. Sorry I can't exactly talk, the muffins needed to be restocked." Phil nodded in understanding, then turned to Dan. "Do you want me to help you, or..." Dan shook his head. "I'm good."

He quickly grabbed the bags and hauled them up two by two, putting his in his room and Phil's in a neat row on the dining table. Once he was done, he came back down and grabbed his apron from the hook, tying it behind his back as he pushed out the door. Phil was leaned against the counter, typing away at his phone. "Hey. How much time do we have? Troye said our reservation was at seven, but he wanted to eat first, and he said that was at five." Phil checked. "It's currently three thirty, so we've got a while." Dan hummed, rearranging things on the counter's surface. "We do. Could you go ask Troye where he plans to take us and when the others plan on coming?"

"Bien sûr."

While he was busy, Dan handled a customer, ringing them up for two moon rocks, not noticing that Phil was watching him from behind. When the customer left, Phil stepped up behind him. "How come you aren't anxious around them? Or a camera?" Dan tried to think of a simple way to answer his questions. "Well, I still get a little a little anxious when I talk to the customers, but it's often only one at a time, and some of them are regulars. This is like a cycle, I greet them, ask them what they want, tell them the price, thank them, and repeat. If I train myself, I guess I can teach myself to not be so scared of some things. As for the camera, I've also taught myself not to be scared about it, even if it does take a few tries to get a good intro. With a camera, it's normally just me or Troye and I, so I don't have to face anyone else. Makes it easier." Phil had tilted his head. "Huh. C'est intéressant." The bell dinged as another customer entered. As they were walking up, Phil tapped him on the back. "Troye said he wants to go to some chinese restaurant near the Eye, I forget what the name was, but it was Chinese. And he said the others would be here around four forty-five." He stepped back as the woman started to order, Dan throwing a  _thanks_ over his shoulder as Phil retreated into the kitchen.  _Just an hour or two more, then you'll be done._

_-_

Dan was just beginning to doze off, head in hand, when the bell on the door rang out aggressively. He snapped awake, mumbling and scrambling to his feet.  _What time is it? I'm hungry._

"Hey, Dan! Sleeping at work again?"

Dan feebly shook his head as someone grabbed his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. "Hi guys."

Connor, Ryan and Tyler greeted him heartily, excited about their evening. Tyler finally pulled away from the hug and leans across the counter. "Dan? Are you sure you weren't sleeping? Do I need to tell Troye?" He grinned cheekily at Dan's panic. "No, no, not a good idea." Tyler relented and Connor started talking about their trip to the park this afternoon. "...Ryan ran after a bird, even if it nearly pecked his eyes out. Ryan, you're too friendly." He looked offended, gasping dramatically and putting a hand to his chest. "Excuse you, I am not. I am just  _so nice_ that people run away from me. Thank you and goodbye." He did an invisible hair flip and swung his hips, sauntering off. Tyler's booming laugh echoed around the bakery. "Yeah, neither of those skills are especially good ones to have." They continued laughing and catching up until Troye walked out of the kitchen.

"Everyone ready to go?" With firm confirmations from all around, Troye grabbed his coat from under the counter, a hooded red, green and yellow corduroy jacket. Dan peeked back into the kitchen, motioning at Phil that it was time to leave. He tossed Dan his coat, the black fabric fitting to him well. The others were halfway out the door when Dan called at them to wait. "Oh!" Troye exclaimed. "He was so quiet that I'd forgotten he was there." Ignoring the others' confused exclamations, he stopped, waiting for Dan and Phil to catch up. When Phil joined them, however, the group went dead silent.  _Shit. I forgot to tell them about Phil._

"Oh. Um. Guys, this is Phil..." Ryan butted in. "Philip Lester, known by stage name luustr." He looked absolutely star struck, Tyler and Connor having varying degrees of the same expression. Phil smiled uncertainly. "Bonjour," he tentatively said, Ryan fanning himself with his hand. "Yeah. Phil this is Connor, Ryan, and Tyler. My friends." Troye stood off to the side, watching in amusement at the awkward introduction. When Phil had greeted all of them (Ryan still in shock), Troye ushered them out the door, cold November air hitting them as they stepped outside.

The sky was taken by a sunset, painting it in vibrant oranges, yellows, pinks and purples. It contrasted heavily with the dark skyline of London, who's lights were just starting to turn on. Troye, Conner and Ryan walked ahead, Dan falling back with Phil to keep him silent company. Tyler, however, walked beside Dan, matching him step-for-step. Dan knew he had a shitload of questions coming at him. "So. Dan, why not tell me why there was an internationally famous artist doing in Blue Moon's kitchen? And how he knows you, and why you're on shortened-first-name-basis." He wasn't speaking very quietly, Dan knew Phil could hear every word, but he didn't comment, only looked out at the sunset. "Well," Dan started. "I'm sure you have lots of questions-"

"Um, fuck yeah! So-" He held up a finger to stop him. "All in due time," was all he said before quickening his pace to catch up with the others. Tyler stayed back with Phil, who looked like he was doing his best not to laugh. Dan decided to be merciful and called them up, everyone now walking together. Troye was giving the group a warning.

"Look, I know it's only five, and our reservation for the private pod on the Eye is at seven, but you know how we tend to stay long at restaurants." Everyone murmured in agreement and glared at Connor, who held up his hands. "So, we have to have someone keep track of the time. Who wants to?" They were silent for a second.

"I will."

Dan, along with everyone else, turned to look at the person who spoke, who turned out to be Phil.  _He looks really good in that trench coat-ah ah, Dan, not the time for these thoughts. Never again._ "Ok then! Philip will keep track of the time." Dan noticed that Phil didn't correct him.  _How many people call him just 'Phil', anyway?_

They made it in record time, not encountering much traffic as they crossed streets and spread out along sidewalks. When they arrived, Dan immediately loved the quaint little place. Unlike most of the metal or glass buildings, it was made of brick, painted white. Columns and lanterns framed the glass doors, and when they stepped in he was hit by a rich mixture of smells, sounds and sights. When Dan finally managed to tear his eyes away from some watercolours on the front wall, the others were already following a waitress to a curved corner booth near the back. They slid in (Connor, Ryan, Tyler, Troye, Dan then Phil) and the waitress set down menus. She said she'd give them a minute before coming back for drink orders, which gave Dan a little time to prepare.

Outside the huge windows, London sparkled. People moved all around and the Eye could be seen, silhouetted against the sunset. Above their heads, a lantern was hung, giving everything a soft golden-red glow. Everyone was excited, peppering Phil with questions, who answered most of them easily. When she came back for drinks, Dan only had a spike of anxiety when it came his turn, but he did it. Troye glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, surprised but proud. He leaned over to whisper in Dan's ear. "If you need one, just let me know." Dan nodded in understanding.

The table fell back into a mess of conversations, the main one being an argument about whether cats or dogs were better pets. This topic was popular with them, as Connor had an overweight, longhair cream-coloured cat named Genovia and Tyler had a small black-and-white dog named Queen. Both were equally cute but at the same time an easy topic for conversation. Dan normally didn't join in because he and Troye didn't have a pet (though he did prefer dogs). They were in the thick of things when the waitress came back, a tray of drinks in hand. As she set them all down she asked if they were ready to order, to which Dan (for some reason) boldly said yes, causing Troye to glance at him in confusion. His anxiety mounted as she got closer, but he had to keep his hand firmly on Phil's so he wouldn't leave again, which gave him some sort of grounding. "Stay just this once, please?" Dan knew it was irrational but having Phil here might help a little. Phil relented and relaxed, not moving his hand from under Dan's. The waitress got to him and he only had to repeat himself once, collapsing against the seat when she moved on. Dan moved his hand from Phil's as Troye wound his fingers under his other under the table.

"I'm proud of you Dan. You seem to be doing much better." Troye's friendly face gave Dan comfort. "Yeah. I'm proud of me too." He felt Troye squeeze his hand twice and then let go. The easy conversation continued, Dan jumping into the argument this time, which ended up with Tyler and Connor switching phones and looking at photo albums of their pets. Phil seemed to find this whole thing amusing, huffing with laughter around the straw in his water glass and occasionally adding a word or two.

When their food came, Dan's stomach growled at the smell, causing Phil to tease him. Dan had ordered a plate of steamed vegetables and tofu with a side of rice and soy sauce. Connor had picked up his chopsticks and was using them to drop pieces of chicken into Ryan's open mouth. Troye and Tyler were sharing the specialty for the day, which happened to be a seafood plate, with everything from different kinds of fish to a few octopus tentacles. Troye stopped all conversation to pick up a tentacle he'd been poking, holding it eye level to Tyler. "I dare you to eat it."

At first Tyler refused, but when Troye gave him a death-glare he conceded and allowed Troye to place it in his mouth. Dan looked away before he could see what really happened, but from the others' groans he guessed it didn't look too pretty. Tyler tried to get Troye to eat one, saying it was 'only chewy and tasted like chicken!' but not being able to get him to do it. While Dan was turned away, he looked at Phil's plate. It was only a medium sized bowl of egg drop soup.

"Is that all you're going to eat?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to take them back. Dan hated blatantly judging other people (he hated judging people period), but he couldn't help it. Phil looked confused. "Oui, why?" Now Dan was confused. Phil was acting like everything was normal. "W-Well, you're a grown man, you need more food than that." He hated pressing it.  _Oh god, what if he has an eating disorder? I have no clue how to deal with those._

Phil didn't respond, only looked back down at his food.  _Oh gosh, what should I do?_

After a short, anxious internal war with himself he silently divided up a fourth of his main dish and scooped some rice on top, sliding it over to Phil without saying a word. He turned away to give him some privacy, in case he didn't want it. Connor was now talking about his trip to Berlin he took a few weeks ago. "...It was raining half the time I was there, but honestly I didn't mind. The rain is aesthetic." Everyone agreed except Tyler, who notoriously hated the rain.

Dan could hear Phil behind him, but he didn't want to turn around to check. Before he could go back listening to Connor's story, he felt thin fingers tap him on the shoulder. He looked over his shoulder. "Hm?" Phil looked nervous. "Is it ok if I..." He pointed in the general direction of the rest of Dan's rice. Dan smiled, happy he was eating more. "Yeah! Here." He pushed it over, letting Phil finish in peace while he finished his own meal and chatted with his friends.

At six thirty, Troye was finally able to shove them out the door, all of them complaining about how cold it was. "Sucks to be you," was all Troye said, shrugging with his hands shoved in his pockets. Dan didn't mind, he liked the cold. Gave him an extra edge.

The sun was now fully down, the moon starting to dominate the sky. London's lights were on, sparkling every time they took a step. The London Eye wasn't very far away, only a block or two. People passed around them, the closer they got, the busier the streets became. When they reached the square, the crowds became thicker, London seeming to be more alive at night then in the light. Troye ushered everyone together, putting Dan between him and Connor. He swallowed nervously, silently thanking Troye.  _I hate crowds._

Thankfully it didn't take them very long to arrive, the group being ushered into a small waiting area that overlooked the Thames. Lights shimmered over the smooth surface, reflecting back in a broken pattern. Dan took a deep breath, calming himself down. The noise of the crowd was muffled here. He was safe. Phil sat next to him, looking entranced by the lights on the water. Dan laughed. "What? Have you never been out in London at night?" Phil shook his head. "Non. Always been in London strictly for concerts or business." He couldn't believe it. "That's crazy. London's such a vibrant city! There's so much to see. I've lived here for a less than ten years and I still haven't seen it all. Another con, huh?"

"Really." Phil huffed, amused, keeping his gaze on the water. The conversation tapered off, both of them choosing to sit and listen to the quiet chatter of their friends behind them. They didn't move, ignoring the whispers and muffled giggles that came up. Dan had honestly started to doze off when a worker stepped in. "Sivan? Your group can board now." Being half-asleep, Dan didn't hear him, only continuing to fall deeper into a doze. He hummed contentedly, letting his muscles relax.

"Dan? Dan, réveiller."

Hands were gently placed on his shoulders, slightly shaking him awake. "Hm? Wha?" The world was still a blur. "Dan. They called us." Dan yawned, stretching his arms, brushing past someone's face on the way. He pulled his hand back against his body, mumbling an apology.  _Why am I so tired? It's still so early._ He yawned again, someone helping him up. As he blinked the fog out of his eyes, the world came into focus, just in time, as he nearly fell flat on his face, tripping over the table in the middle of the room. Hands on his shoulders steadied him as he straightened out and walked out the door, joining his friends in the glass pod. "Tired there, Dan?" Tyler teased as he leaned against a side in the pod. "I don't know," he whined. "I didn't do much today that would require me falling asleep at seven pm." Phil and Troye exchanged glances but didn't say anything. "You feeling ok?"

Troye joined Dan, concerned. "Like I said, I don't know. All I did was go around with Phil and run a little. Nothing much." Troye leaned close, eyes searching. "Did you have any attacks today?" He gazed back. "Um. Not full-blown, but moments where I felt like I was having one." His friend exhaled, looking out at the sparkling city. They started to move up, excited exclamations coming from Ryan and Tyler on the other side of the pod. "You might've worn yourself down, Dan. Your anxiety takes a lot out of you, yeah?" Dan nodded, understanding where he was coming from. "I think you should take the day off tomorrow."

"What? No, no I can't!" Dan sputtered. "You just handled the shop all day today! I can't have you doing that again, it's my shop too! At least let me work in the kitchen tomorrow, if anything." Troye looked at him long and hard, Dan could practically see the internal argument he was having with himself. "I'm just concerned for you, Dan. I don't want you burning yourself out again." His voice grew hard. "I don't want a repeat of 2016."

All the words he'd planned to say dried up.  _Idon'twantarepeatIdon'twantarepeatIdon'twantarepeat-_ "Stop." He was shaking now. "You won't get a repeat of 2016.  _Trust me._ " Despite Dan's firm words, the emotions in Troye's eyes said that he didn't really believe him. "I hope," was all he said, Dan nearly bursting into tears.  _This isn't how I wanted the night to go._ But then Troye pulled him in for a hug, one he kept him wrapped in when he tried to push away. "I'll let you work in the kitchen tomorrow." Dan sniffed against the rough fabric of Troye's jacket, gratitude matching the sadness in his head. "Thank you." Troye let him go but made him look out at the skyline. "Now, we didn't come up here to cry and argue, did we? Enjoy the view, Dan." Troye smiled and left, leaving Dan alone for a few minutes to sort his thoughts out. He wasn't left alone for long, however, as Phil snagged the chance to come and stand next to him. "C'est bon?"

Dan glanced at him, eyes still a little puffy and the sadness still lingering. But the concerned look on the man's face brought a small smile to his.

"Yeah. I'm fine."

-

When Dan got back that night, Troye let him brush his teeth and change before sending him straight to bed, claiming that he'd need lots of sleep for the following day. When he'd left, Dan shifted around, turning to face his window, the blue neon letters casting a calming glow over the walls. Dan raised a heavy hand, sleepily moving his fingers around in the light. He thought about the day, about all the awkward moments with Phil, all the things he told him at the pizza parlour. He suddenly dropped his hand, insolently staring at it.

As they were going up in the Eye Phil had told Dan that he'd be busy the rest of the week and some of next week for 'studio things', whatever that meant. Maybe he was releasing a new album, maybe he was working on some singles, doing a photoshoot, or whatever else popular people do. Sure, he was popular, but not internationally-loved popular.  _I kind of prefer it._

Dan heard Troye moving around in the living room outside, probably making a cup of late-night tea, something they'd do if they couldn't sleep and had nothing better to do.  _Traditions._ Dan laughed. He never realized how much he needed Troye. Where would he be if he'd never met him?  _Probably somewhere else, worse off._ Dan didn't want to think about it.

He slowly drifted off amidst his messy thoughts, too deeply gone to notice when Troye checked on him one last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the title should've been unintentional fan service
> 
> edit: dan's experience ordering is similar to what i go through everytime i order as well. his anxiety not 100% based off of my experience/my anxiety, but a good bit is similar to mine.  
> french in this chapter:  
> edit: halfway through the "pizza scene" i remembered that irl phil hates cheese but here he doesn't ok ty  
> \- je vais bien: i'm fine/i am good  
> \- une seconde: one second  
> \- que cherchez vous: what are you looking for  
> \- chose sûr: sure thing  
> \- aimez-vous: do you like it  
> \- c'est très incroyable: this is very amazing  
> \- merci encore: thank you again  
> \- Regarde moi: look at me/watch me  
> \- C'est bon. Je comprends. Je ne peux pas expliquer leurs actions, seulement qu'ils me suivent et ils me respectent. Si tout, c'est mon faute: It's ok/good. I understand. I cannot explain their actions, only that they follow me and respect me. If anything, this is my fault.  
> \- très bien: very well  
> \- bien sûr: of course  
> \- c'est intéressant: that's interesting  
> \- réveiller: wake up/to wake up


	6. six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy new years!
> 
> i meant to put this out earlier but got sidetracked oops  
> also i made rasin-pecan stickybuns today and i am very proud they took literal hours

It had been a week and one day since Dan had last seen Phil. He hadn't been joking when he'd said that this past week was going to be busy. He'd only come in once or twice, and that was to order a muffin for his lunch break. Phil had to brush him off both times so he could get back in time, which Dan understood but he still felt let down.

Which was stupid. But he couldn't help it, he'd gotten quite attached in the past few days of knowing him. It was hard not to; he was famous, charismatic and had an alluring personality. Couple that with the fact that Dan had been a fan of him for years and you got a whole mess of feelings and thoughts that probably weren't too healthy.

But Troye and the others had been doing a pretty good job of inadvertently keeping him busy and he was glad for that. He'd gone back to school too, discovering that he'd gotten a 78 on the test he'd been so worried about. Olive had hugged him, congratulating him on 'what a good job he did', winking at the same time. They'd then gone out for a celebratory ice cream (which, given the weather, was completely unnecessary), Ari tagging along.

Now it was November 21, a regular Wednesday. Nothing special was happening as far as Dan knew. Troye had let him sleep in today, getting up at around nine, which was hours more than he was usually able to get. Despite Dan's insistent protesting, he'd worked in the kitchen, killing stress and anxious thoughts as he kneaded dough, sifted flour or shoved another batch of cookies into the oven. Deep down, he was grateful Troye had done this, the only times he had to see others was when he brought batch after batch of fresh treats up to the display case.

"Doing good?"

Dan jumped, whipping around to face the door. "Oh! Um, yes. Doing fine. Just waiting for anything to run out." He was currently leaning against the flour-patched countertop, a few splashes of vanilla adorning the smooth surface. Twitter didn't have anything interesting to offer, so he was scrolling through his dash on Tumblr. People seemed to be extremely invested in the Dan and Phil relationship. Kind of creepy, but he'd been shipped with Troye, so it wasn't too bad.

"Well. Today's your lucky day. We need more checkerboard cookies. Pretty popular today for some reason." Dan nodded, already reaching for the shelf above him. Even if he'd memorized nearly every recipe they made here perfectly, he still liked to keep the books close by. The one for the checkerboard cookies was in one of his favourite books,  _Chocolate Divine Indulgence._ With 150+ recipes that all somehow contained chocolate, it was the perfect thing to impulsively buy. Flipping to page 48, he assembled everything, almost on autopilot. Even baking can be a routine sometimes.

Eventually, he finished with the batch, putting the layered blocks of dough in the fridge, then sticking his head out to see how Troye was doing. Not many people were left as they neared the end of their workday, but a few families were scattered throughout the area. He waved Dan back, assuring him he was good. Sighing, Dan took his phone out. He had half an hour to kill while he waited for the cookies to chill in the fridge. After a few minutes of mindless scrolling, his phone dinged twice, notifications dropping down at the top. Both of them were from Phil. He clicked on the Twitter one first.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): bonjour! ce noël, le 7 décembre, mon album de noël sera disponible dans le monde entier. à plus tard :)**

_Ah. So this is what he's been hinting at for the past month._

The tweet already had thousands of likes and replies, many people excited about the upcoming album. Dan felt some of the excitement from them spill over into him. He liked the tweet before going to Instagram. Phil had posted a picture of what Dan thought was the album cover, along with the same text. Phil was lying in a red armchair, legs thrown off to the side, lounging against the other armrest. He was wearing black jeans and shoes, a small santa hat and a glass of champagne accenting the look. What caught Dan's eyes was (no, not the smirk, or the eyes) the red-and-white jumper he wore. It was covered in respectively contrasting star-like shapes, lines and triangles.  _Brave choice._

A little while later, the timer he had set on his phone started to beep, reminding him that he had work to do. Dan dropped his phone onto the counter, shutting off the alarm and taking out the dough, setting each log down on the island so he could cut them up.

Dan did just that, having soon filled a sheet with the cookies. Halfway through laying one down on the second baking sheet, his phone buzzed, almost making him drop the cookie in surprise.  _Who could that be?_

The notification on top seemed to be from Twitter. He leaned over, still holding the cookie in his hand. It was from Phil. He took his phone, reading the text.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): do you do catering?**

_Catering? Why would he ask that?_ Dan typed out a response then went back to his cookies while he waited for Phil to answer back. Thankfully, it didn't take long for the  _ding_ to ring out again.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): i have some friends coming over tonight and i've told them about blue moon and they want to try it but we wouldn't be able to go out without causing a scene, and i know you and Troye wouldn't want that**

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): we've never catered before, but i can check with Troye to maybe work something out**

**Philip Lester (@luustr): bien sûr :)**

Dan abandoned the cookies, leaving the knife balanced on top of the uncut dough. When he poked his head out of the door, Troye was just finishing with a large group of teenagers, who started to giggle and point at him when they caught sight of him. Dan ignored them, instead turning to Troye. "Hey. Do we cater?" Troye looked confused. "What?" Dan leaned against the doorway, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Cater. Phil wants to know if we can cater for a thing he's doing tonight."

"Oh. Um. Well, we've never catered before, because we've never had time too, but if it's only for this one time I think it'd be ok." He tilted his head. "What exactly does he want? How many people? Where and when? Can you get details?" Dan nodded. "I can ask." He smiled happily. Dan turned around, retreating back into the kitchen. "One thing, though. Dan!" He looked over his shoulder. "What?" Troye was leaning in the doorway. "Can you go get lunch? The sub place should be open soon."

"Yeah. Sure. You want the usual?" Troye nodded and disappeared and despite the anxiety already gathering in his stomach he ignored it, instead trying to focus on getting the details from Phil.

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): he said he'll make an exception and we can do it but he needs the specifics, like what are you wanting, how many people are you having over and where and when?**

He figured it'd take a little while for him to respond, so he went back to the cookies, slicing the remaining soft dough in a sort of methodical fashion. Just as he slid in the last tray, his phone buzzed.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): surprise me (include the blue moon muffins though). there will only be about ten of us and it’s at my apartment, 9pm**

Phil sent another text with his address soon after, leaving Dan with only half the information he truly needed, but he could probably wing it. He quickly texted the information to Troye, who agreed, then got back to the checkerboard cookies, waiting until the last batch had finished in the oven before bringing it up. The big group of teens were clustered in booths near the register, still laughing and whispering to themselves. Troye was tapping his fingers on the counter when he came out of the kitchen. "Y'know, if they get to be a bother you can just ask them to quiet down or leave." Dan slid the cookies into the case, Troye sighing. He knew what he was thinking. That time a girl had started to hit on him, knowing he wasn't into it. When he'd finally asked her to stop and leave him alone or leave, she'd shouted in his face, making a big scene before storming out the door. "Yeah, I know. But..."

Dan shrugged, sympathizing. "I can do it if you want me too."  _Though, given my problems and apparently good looks I wouldn't be much help either._ "No, no, it's fine. Just go get the subs and we can decide on Phil's thing after." He rubbed his forehead. "Sure. I'll go now." Troye let him go, promising he could work at the register later in the week. Dan still felt bad about putting it all on Troye, even if he insisted that it was fine.

It didn't take him too long to get ready, hanging his apron up on the wall and grabbing his phone. The air was cold outside and people still crowded around the streets and shops, chattering. He stuck to the edges, passing by quietly. The sub shop was near the Chinese place they'd gone a week ago so it wasn't too far. He tried to stamp down the anxiety that surged through him, to no avail. He entered as inconspicuously as he could, shrinking slightly when people at tables watched him enter. Even when their eyes went back down to their tables he still felt uneasy.

_Damn this stupid anxiety._

His fingers tapped against his thigh while he waited in line, scanning the menu above their heads even when he knew it by heart. (This place was one of their favourite, to-go lunch places.) The nervous energy swelled as he moved up in line, peaking when he reached the counter. Over the pounding heart in his chest he managed to stutter out his order to the cashier, who looked like they'd rather be anywhere else than here. Dan handed him the money, moving to stand over by the pick-up counter and wait somewhere out of the way.

The food came quick, packed neatly into plastic take out bags. Dan thanked the employee, leaving as quickly and quietly as he could. The atmosphere hadn't changed since he'd been in the store, London was still alive, it was only a quarter after noon. The Eye sparkled in the distance, slowing rotating through another cycle. Clouds streaked through the blue sky, sun shining brightly. Even in November the chill couldn't outdo the sun.

When he arrived back at Blue Moon, their "lunch break" sign was up, hanging from a hook on the door. He dug around in his pockets before realizing he'd forgotten his key on the counter back in the kitchen. Dan sighed, resorting to knocking obnoxiously, leaning up against the entryway as Troye opened the door for him. "Forgot something?" He teased, smiling. Dan rolled his eyes, shoving one of the plastic bags into his chest. "Got your food, idiot. Enjoy." Troye took the bag, walking further into the room and stopping at a table near the back, dropping his bag on the top and pulling out a chair. "You handle it ok?" Dan joined him, sitting opposite and pulling the meal out. "Yeah. Nothing too bad, just some every day, normal nerves."

Dan didn't look up when Troye spoke again. "Dan. It shouldn't be normal."

He could hear the blatant pity and worry in his friends voice. "I know." Paper crinkled as Troye took a napkin from the box sitting on the tabletop. "What about going back to a therapist, or at least going back to the psychiatrist-" Dan cut him off angrily. "No!" Troye froze, knowing he crossed a line. Dan lowered his voice. "No. I don't want to go back there. Don't make me." Troye didn't bother to argue. "Fine. I'm just worried about you." Dan nodded, still not meeting Troye's gaze. "I'm aware."

They sat in silence after that, the only occasional sounds coming from the wrappers. Dan glanced at the clock on the wall.  _12:30._

"Hey Dan?" He looked up from his mostly-eaten sandwich. "Yeah?"

"What do we plan on doing for Christmas baking?" Almost instantly the somber mood turned into something happier. "Christmas baking? Isn't Christmas like a month away though?" The rest of the sandwich quickly disappeared, Dan balling up the paper and shoving everything into his bag. "Yes, but I know you like to plan ahead of time." The gentle smile on Troye's face eased Dan. "Ok. Well, I was thinking of something a little different this year. Why don't we have Ryan, Connor and Tyler sort of, I don't know, guest star?" Troye laughed. "Guest star. Ok." Dan swatted his shoulder. "You know what I mean." Troye nodded, unlocking his phone to type it all down in his Notes. "So it'll be me, you, and the other three. What do you want to make?"

Dan held up his finger, running back into the kitchen to grab a few recipe books and running back, dropping them all on the table with a loud  _thump._ "Well," he started, opening the top one and flipping through it, "If there's going to be more of us this year, there should be more to make. Last couple years we only made enough for just the two of us, so maybe we should make..." he trailed off, thinking. "Two or three recipes at the most."

"Two or three!" Troye spluttered. "Alright. You're editing this, then." Dan finally found what he was looking for, triumphantly slapping a hand down. "Fine. Like your lazy ass would want to edit anything anyway." He barely managed to duck the playful punch Troye aimed, instead lightly grazing his arm. "Since the other three are fairy bad at any sort of baking, why don't we just do simple recipes?" His friend arched an eyebrow. "How simple is simple, Howell?"

"Simple enough. I was thinking, 'What better way to get everyone in the Christmas spirit then gingerbread men?'" Troye glanced down at the open book, typing in Dan's suggestion. "Mark it." All the proper bookmarks being in the kitchen, Dan grabbed a clean napkin and ripped it, bookmarking the page. "Next, I was thinking cake pops, which we could also festively decorate..." He flipped though his stack of books, taking one near the bottom and browsing until he came upon the simple cake pop recipe. Troye jotted it down, Dan marking that page. "For the last one?"

Dan hummed, at a loss. He looked through the rest of the recipe books, just searching. "No cakes, pies, or anything like that right? It'll be a bit too hard for them." Troye nodded, sliding a book in front of him and helping him look. The sound of flipping pages echoed throughout the empty bakery, both unsure of what would be good. "Maybe we should just do two recipes?" Troye suggested, but Dan shook his head. "No. We need to do three." They went back to looking for a few minutes more until Troye gasped. "What?" Dan asked, startled. He had just been deep in thought, considering if they should do muffins. "What about these?"

Troye held the thin book up, letting his friend scan the pages. "Pinwheel cookies? Never done 'em before but I suppose the baking video would be the best time to try." Troye made a happy sound and tore the napkin again, marking and closing the book. He typed them into his phone and started to text their friends while Dan got up and started to clean up their mess. Just as he was gathering everything into the bags, a thought hit him.

"What are we going to make for Phil?"

Troye groaned. "I forgot about that. Party starts at nine, right?" Dan nodded, watching him run a hand through the umber waves on his head. "It's only noon but we've still got about three or four hours until we close. Can we juggle baking for two things at once?" Dan dumped everything in the bin behind the counter. "I'm sure we can. Just as long as we don't make anything too complicated for him."

"Fine. What should we make then?" Troye gathered the recipe books together, handing them to Dan to take back while he thought. "We've got some filling for the Cherry Clusters ready-made, so we could make some of those. Um, any type of muffins are good too. Oh!" He tapped his fingers on the table excitedly. "Croissants!"

"Croissants? Those take hours! Do we have time?"

"If you start now. I've made them before, though. Do you want me to make them? I know you've been wanting to work up front." Dan walked around to the counter. "Go ahead." Troye high-fived him and disappeared into the kitchen, the rattle of bowls and utensils soon ringing out. They still had around fifteen minutes until the bakery opened so Dan took out his phone, mucking around on Tumblr before unlocking the door and taking down the sign.

_Here we go._

-

Three hours later, Dan was tired. People exhausted him, but the bakery was worth it.

They had just closed, the last of the people just stepping out as Dan locked the door behind them. Troye was out and about, wiping down the tables with a rag. He'd come out earlier when he'd refilled the Blue Moon muffins saying half the food for Phil's party was finished. Dan wasn't sure how much he'd gotten down since then, that was a while ago.

"Troye! Did you get everything done?"

"Yeah." He finished cleaning a table, tossing the rag on his shoulder. "Barely, but I got it done." Dan smiled. "Great! I wish I could've helped you though." Troye waved off his concern. "It's fine." Dan helped him finish the tables, then went back to the kitchen, where he started to package up the muffins and cookies. "Troye! Where'd the croissants go?" His friend popped in. "Um. Change of plans. I read the recipe wrong the first time, turns out it'd take  _way_ longer than what we have time for, so I made some sugar cookies instead." He motioned with his head over to the far wall, where cookies sat on wire racks. "Oh. That's fine. I never told him what exactly we were bringing, so it's ok. I did talk to him earlier and he said to be there around  _8:40_  and it's only  _4:14_ , so after I've got these packaged up do you want to take a nap?"

Troye threw him a grateful, tired smile. "Oh, do I!" They laughed, Troye tossing the rag in the general direction of the sink. "I'll help you package these."

It didn't take them too long, seeing that they had tiered display stands and pans, that also came with cases. (Neither of them could remember who'd they'd gotten them from or where.) When everything was all set up on the counters beside the door, they both stumbled up the short staircase to their flat, both collapsing onto the couch. They managed to kick their shoes off, not bothering to do anything else except for wiggling around to make themselves comfortable. Eventually they ended up with Dan on Troye's chest, both of them slowly dozing off. Just before they did, Dan tapped Troye's leg.

"D'You set an alarm?" Troye nodded sleepily. "Mhm."

"M'kay. See you in a few hours."

-

_brrriiing. brrriiing._

Dan awoke to Troye's half-panicked sleepy movements above him, fumbling to turn off the alarm. The harsh noise bore into his ears until it finally stopped, Troye dropping the device in relief. The time read  _8:00_ before the screen shut off, turning to black. It only took about half an hour to get to the Battersea area but they didn't want to test their luck with traffic. Dan sat up, yawning and stretching all while trying to put on his shoes. Troye joined him and a few lazy minutes later they were in the kitchen, donning coats and shoving phones and keys into their pockets. Dan grabbed the bigger bag that held most of the unassembled displays and the pans, Troye taking hold of the bags that held the treats.

"Ready to go, friend?" He smiled. "Ready."

Dan locked the door as they left, then both walked further downtown in hopes of catching a cab. When they did, Troye gave them the address, letting Dan sit back and relax. London whizzed by, the sounds of people muted by the cab and the lights stretching out into pretty patterns. "What do you think will happen when we get there?" Troye laughed, shifting to face him. "What? Nothing's going to happen. Why would anything out of the ordinary happen?" Dan bit his lip. "I dunno." He turned to face the window again. Troye gasped lightly as a realization hit him. "Oh, is Danny-boy nervous because he has a crush?" The tone was teasing but Dan took it to heart, blushing madly. "N-No! I do not. This is just crazy. One of the most internationally-famous popstars is suddenly in our little bakery, asking for a muffin. I even  _spent time with him_ and showed him some underground spots in London! Now we're going to his  _fucking_ apartment, which, by the way, is in a newly developed, expensive part of London. This doesn't happen every day. It doesn't help that he's my favourite musical artist and he let me call him by his nickname. How. Did. This. Happen. To. Us. To. Me?" He punctuated the last few words with a jab to Troye's shoulder.

"Ok, calm down, Bear." The domestic-sounding nickname slipped out of Troye's mouth, who immediately stopped and glanced at Dan, who looked back but didn't stop him. "It'll be ok. Maybe he saw something in you, or us, that no one else has been able to see." He took Dan's icy hands in his own warm ones, trying to calm him down. "We'll figure it out, ok?" The car suddenly hit a dent in the road, causing the bag on Dan's lap to almost fall to the floor. The driver muttered a hasty apology, one that Troye brushed off. Dan gathered the bag close, gazing out at the window and letting Troye's words run through his head.  _It'll be ok. We'll figure it out. I hope we do. As much as I love it, I'm equally confused._

They reached Battersea eventually, Troye tipping the driver more than needed, letting him keep the change. The cab drove off, leaving both men standing in front of the district. It was more than just expensive, riverside apartments. Battersea used to be a power station, so some of the old architecture like smokestacks were still standing, but most of the area was for commercial use, parks housing. They lined the Thames, sidewalks right against the slow-moving water. Lights lined those sidewalks, beams reflecting off the water. People walked all around, though this area was less hectic than downtown.

Dan took out his phone, opening it to his Twitter dms, texting Phil that they'd be there soon. He then scrolled up to the text he'd gotten hours ago, the one that had Phil's address.  _I still can't believe he told me his fucking address._ Dan held out his hand, letting Troye take it as he talked to Phil who gave him more directions to his complex. Troye occasionally warned him if he was about to run into something since his eyes were glued to his phone. After a few moments of walking down the riverside sidewalk, Dan got a text.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): Should be almost right in front of you. regarder en haut**

Dan paused, staring at his phone in confusion. "I don't know french."

**Philip Lester (@luustr): look up**

Instantly both of them looked up, spotting a figure on a topmost balcony that waved at them. Dan smiled and waved back, pocketing his phone. His voice was light and happy as he spoke. "Comon Troye." His friend smiled back, swinging their arms in response. They found the building, Troye holding open the door for them. When they entered, Dan got the feeling he was not rich enough to be here. Shiny tiled floors contrasted with the nude-coloured walls; chairs and other pieces of furniture dotted the area. Off to the right there was a small sitting area for guests, and directly in front of them was the reception counter. Dan's shoes squeaked as he walked and even if there wasn't anyone else besides them and the receptionist he still felt like all eyes were on him. Leafy plants framed the area, the only green in the room.

The man looked up as they entered. "Hello. How can I help you?" Looking at his suit and slicked-down hair Dan shrank back. Troye stepped up in his place. "We're here to see a resident." He started at them, unimpressed. "May I have your names and have you state your business?"

"Troye Sivan and Daniel Howell. We're from Blue Moon bakery, we're catering for someone here." The man seemed to find Troye's statements trustworthy and continued. "Name of resident?"

"Philip Lester." The man started typing, then had them sign their names in a book. He them had them open the bags, double-checking the contents before letting them up with the room number. As the elevator doors closed around them, Dan grew anxious with the second.  _I am going to see my favourite singer at his apartment, to give him food that we made. Good lord._ Troye noticed he was riling himself up, putting a comforting arm around him, a sort of half-hug. Dan smiled at him, neither of them talking. The doors finally dinged and opened to what seemed to be the top floor. The hallway was a pristine white and the floor was tiled with a patterned rug. "He said his room number was 76."

They didn't have to walk far until they reached apartment number 76. Dan reached up, ringing the doorbell. A faint chime rang out and Phil was at the door, warm smile and all. "Bonjour! Vous pouvez entrer." He held the door open for them, Troye going in first, both of them thanking him as they passed. The door closed behind them and Dan's mouth fell open in shock.

The apartment was huge, and this was just the living room. A long, white, expensive-looking couch was off to the right, a black coffee table littered with papers in front of it. A huge flat screen tv decorated the wall. Colourful, whimsical pieces of pottery and all different kinds of plants were dotted and spread throughout the room. The floors were a light, pale hardwood; the walls were white and the few rugs on the floor were rich colours of different patterns and shades. Even if all of this was classy, it couldn't compare to the main exhibit, four huge floor-to-ceiling windows that faced out to the balcony, overlooking London and River Thames. A small table filled with all different kinds of things was right next to Dan in the short hallway, below a simple mirror.

Dan couldn't help a small exclamation escape. "Goddamn." Phil laughed, both of them in seemingly equal awe. He let them stare a little bit longer before leading them over to the kitchen that was equally impressive. It was well-lit and had marble countertops, black cabinets and shiny new appliances. A fairly-big island sat in the middle, plates of food for him and his friends covering the surface. Phil led them to a counter that was cleared off for their deserts. Dan sat the black bag down, unzipping and unloading it on the counter. When he had everything the way he liked it, Troye took over, neatly laying everything out on the glass platforms. Dan stood awkwardly in the kitchen, arms wrapped around himself.

"I take it you like the apartment?"

Phil's deep voice suddenly came from behind, making Dan jump. "Yeah. It's pretty impressive." Phil nodded. "My favourite part is the windows and balcony. Amazing view."  _Damn right. Maybe one day I'd be able to look off the top of that balcony._ He caught himself, shaking his head.  _Woah. Stop right there._ Troye finished, zipping up the bags and turning to face them. "I'm going to leave these here so the displays can be packed back up. When do you want us to pick them up?"

"Oh, can I just bring them back to you when I visit your bakery again?"

_When. Again._

"Sure." They stood in silence, no one knowing exactly what to say. "I'll make sure to recommend your bakery." Dan flushed, responding before Troye could. "Ok." Troye and Phil both exchanged smiles. "Ok. If there's nothing more for us to do here, we'll get going. Let's go, Dan." Troye walked forward, grabbing Dan's hand. He took another longer look around the room before his eyes landed on Phil who was leaning against the counter. "Bye, Phil."

"Au revoir, Dan et Troye. À plus tard."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry about the flop of those small side-stories :') i got busy and didn't have enough time
> 
> side note: i'm using the american grading system in this story, so all grades will be on the 10 point system that i'm used to.
> 
> french in this chapter:  
> \- bonjour! ce nöel, le 7 décembre, mon album de nöel sera disponible dans le monde entier. à plus tard: hello! this christmas, on december 7, my christmas album will be available worldwide. see you later  
> \- bien sûr: of course, certainly  
> \- regarder en haut: look up  
> \- bonjour! vous pouvez entrer: hello! you can come in  
> \- au revoir, Dan et Troye. À plus tard: goodbye, dan and troye. see you later


	7. seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another 'in-between' chapter of sorts
> 
> i've found that i write best in the evening, after dinner and a cup of tea with lofi. weirdly specific but wow does it work
> 
> small tw: anxiety attack

Dan stood at the stovetop, waiting with a pair of tongs. Troye was right behind him, one hand on the counter as he watched.

Troye had come up with a new recipe for doughnuts yesterday while washing tables after-hours.  _It's a boring task, but it's when I'm at my most creative,_ he'd said. Dan had laughed.

The dough was mainly based off a cake recipe they had in one of their many books, tweaked slightly to fit the consistency of a doughnut. Since they didn't have a deep fryer, they had to fry them in the cast iron pan, another reason why Dan didn't think these were going to turn out well. But after several minutes of Troye annoying him, he'd caved. 

"Do they look done?"

Troye shrugged. "I guess. When you take them out, put them in here." He slid a bowl of regular white sugar down. "Roll them then set them on here." He backed up, pointing at a wire rack. "Ok. But if  _you_ were so insistent on making them, why aren't  _you_ doing any work?" Troye stiffened. "Hey. I-" He sighed, defeated. "Admit it. You're lazy." He rolled his eyes but complied. "Fine. I'm lazy. But I did make the batter  _and_ shape them."

"That you did, my friend. They look positively  _wonderful._ " Dan couldn't help but snicker and the messily-shaped circles. "You didn't even punch holes in these!" Troye sighed, frustrated. "Excuse you, they can be different! I thought you were the one that was supposed to be all about equality and valid-itiviy!" He stuttered a little on the last words but plowed on. "Stereotypes suck, Daniel. Right?"

Dan didn't answer, instead focusing on keeping his laughter under control.  _When Troye gets going, he_ really  _gets going._ "Dan? Dan, the doughnuts are going to burn!" Troye's half-panicked voice broke through his thoughts, instantly causing him to break out in giggles. He ignored Troye, instead taking out each doughnut one-by-one, shaking them free of oil and dropping them into the bowl of sugar. Even after all four of the doughnuts were put on the baking rack he was still laughing quietly. He leaned over on the counter, dropping his head onto his wrists.

"You can really get fired up, Troye."

He clearly wasn't expecting this answer. "I...I suppose I am."

Dan clapped his hands, not letting him get a word in. "Well. We got that done. We can eat those for lunch or something. Right now, we need to open up. You can clean up back here and I'll go take the chairs down." They snapped into 'business mode', Dan tossing Troye his apron as he tied his own on. They were still splattered with flour from days before. 

_We really need another set of aprons._

In a methodical fashion, he took the chairs off the tabletops, setting them down on the dark hardwood floors. By the time he was done he could hear Troye humming softly as he scrubbed down the bowls and utensils they used. Today was just another day, they all started out the same, went the same and ended the same. Well, until Phil and his annoyingly pretty ass sauntered in, interrupting their slightly-monotonous lives with just a blink of his eyes.  _Strikingly blue eyes. Having eyes like that should be illegal. Speaking of Phil..._ Dan thought,  _where is he? He was supposed to bring the cases and platforms back yesterday._

"Troye? Do you know why Phil hasn't brought the stuff back?"  _Did he forget, or decide to keep it?_

"Um, not sure. I'm not the one who's in his dm's, though." His voice took on a cheeky tone. "Ask him yourself, mate."

"But I don't want to bother him about it," Dan almost whined. Troye poked his head out the doors. "I'm sure he'll be glad for a reminder. Just text him?" Dan nodded, biting his lip and pulling his phone out of his back pocket. The small rectangle that he held in his hands shouldn't be as heavy as it felt.  _Stupid anxiety._ His thumbs hovered over the blank screen, then all at once unlocked his phone and opened his Twitter messages.

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): do you still have the cases and stands we brought over?**

He pocketed his phone, not waiting for a response. Right now he had to open the bakery.

"You ready?" Troye yelled  _yes_ from the kitchen so Dan went ahead and unlocked the doors then settled down at the register, expecting the day to go the route it always had. Running a bakery seemed almost impossible when they first started (and it still was, to an extent), but it had mellowed down some, starting to become a bit of a chore. Some days all he wanted to do was lay in bed and sleep, other days he had so much energy he felt like he could bake for a small country. Today, as it turns out, was one of those in-between days, where he felt like he might be able to make muffins in bed.

_But then there'd be crumbs everywhere. Disgusting._

Dan reeled himself back in as people started to enter, putting on his business smile and greeting everyone who walked in. Phil hadn't texted back yet. Just _another day, I suppose._

_-_

The day was only half-over but Dan felt exhausted.  _I shouldn't be this tired, why am I so tired?_

During the lunch break he'd checked his phone again to see if Phil had texted back, but he hadn't. Troye had started suggesting annoying him until he did but being the overly-kind person he was he refused that idea, instead bugging Troye for absolutely no reason. Dan had half a mind to go over and ask where they were, but he was too anxious to do that. They weren't that important, something you'd keep bothering someone else for. If Phil wanted to keep them, maybe he should; they could just add that to their little list of things they needed.

The bell rang out as yet another person entered. Dan didn't look up from where he was slouched at the register; it probably wasn't the best business behaviour but he could care less. When they stopped in front of him instead of waiting for a greeting black bags were set down one-by-one in a line. He jumped, looking up.

"Oh! Phil! H-hello."

Phil was standing in front of him, looking tired. His quiff wasn't even a quiff, more like a fringe that stuck up at the top. He was wearing a dark-blue jumper with a cartoon pug and the words "Pugs not Drugs" printed on it. 

"How are you-"

"Je suis désolé je-"

"S-sorry. Go ahead." Phil stared at him for a moment before continuing. "I'm sorry I didn't bring these yesterday. I might've had a hangover from the party the day after and then I had everything to clean up, that was a mess. Um. A été distrait." A hesitant smile graced his face. "Oh! It's fine. Troye wanted me to-" Dan cut himself off. "Never mind. Did you get to wash them?" Phil bit his lip, the small movement distracting him from whatever the man started to say. He didn't even realize he was staring until Phil reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. "Dan? Est-tu bon?"

"Hm? Yeah. I'm great. Just tired." He sighed. "I shouldn't be, but here I am. Would you like something?"  _I just want this day to be over._ "Sure. Can I have a..." He trailed off, hastily scanning the items inside. "A peanut butter cookie?" Dan punched in his order. "And a large hot chocolate," Phil hastily added. "I'm a bit tired as well."  _Tired. Doubt you'll ever be as tired as me, mate. With that rich lifestyle of yours who would ever have the time to be tired?_

Dan caught himself, surprised at his vicious thoughts.  _Good lord. What is wrong with me today?_ He finished typing in Phil's order, not fighting when Phil handed him a few extra pounds.  _Gotta get that pity money._ Dan slid a peanut butter cookie in front of him then turned around to pour the hot chocolate, furiously trying to erase the light blush from his cheeks. Even in his tired, irritable mood Phil always seemed to have the same effect on him.

He stood there even after he was finished filling the cup, absentmindedly staring at the smooth brown surface lost in his own thoughts. A quick mental slap to the cheek brought him back, where he hurriedly gave Phil his drink, muttering an apology. Dan pretended to ignore the deep, soft huff of laughter that came from behind him and instead grabbed two of the bags, awkwardly shoving into the kitchen and setting them down, bringing in the other two soon after.

"Ah. There they are. Is he here?" Dan nodded, still a little flustered to Troye's amusement. "Ok. Did he say why he didn't bring them yesterday?"

"Had a hangover, had to clean everything else up. Forgot." He spoke in a clipped tone. Troye laughed. "Sounds wild." Dan nodded, starting to unzip the cases before abandoning them when he realized he still had a register to manage. "Before I go, do we need anything? I want to make a trip to Tesco and maybe Dennys Brands to pick up an extra set of aprons." Troye brightened up at the mention of extra aprons. "Small miracles. Yes please. I'll make a list before you decide to go. When do you plan on leaving?"

"After dinner. Would you want to come?" Troye smiled and agreed, then told him to hightail his ass to the register or he'd be worrying about more than just impatient customers. That brought a small smile and an eyeroll to his face, a welcome distraction from his sullen mood. However, when he exited the kitchen loud and excited voices met his ears. A small crowd of teens (mainly girls) had gathered around Phil, all of them excitedly gushing about almost anything and everything they could, whether it was relevant to him and his career or not. While Phil didn't seem to be outwardly bothered by the attention (he was quietly sipping his sugar-packed hot chocolate, occasionally saying something in french) the other customers clearly were, some of them not even hiding it, annoyance clear on their face. When Dan emerged they all glared at him meaningfully, clearly expecting him to do something about it. His anxiety rushed on as soon as it could, as if it had nothing better to do.

_Am I supposed to do something about this? I can't. I can't. Can I ask Troye? No, no, that'd be bothering him._

The fact that something intangible as feelings was holding him back from breaking this up riled him up even more, the anxiety and anger mixing together to create the dreaded sick feeling in his stomach. The feeling that almost always made him physically sick. Phil glanced over briefly before looking down again, blue eyes betraying his true thoughts, which seemed to be  _get me the hell out._ Dan's anxious gaze flitted over the other customers, most of whom were still glaring at him.  _It's either kick the fans out or kick Phil out._

With a deep breath he strode forward with much more confidence than he felt. "Excuse me," he said. "You're being very loud a-and you're disturbing the other customers. If you're not here to buy anything and only bother everyone else I'm going to h-have to ask you to leave." He swallowed consciously, hating the way the volume dropped to almost nothing as he spoke. Much to Dan's surprise a few seemed to back off or apologize, the group suddenly diminishing by half. The ones that were left glared at him; one even snapped the unoriginal line of "You can't tell me what to do!" He fidgeted around, hands behind his back and tapping at his wrists.  _I am being glared at, disrespected and I have no fucking idea what to do about it. Actually, I do, I just wouldn't be able to go through with it. What about Phil? He isn't doing shit! What, does he think telling someone to go away is going to put a huge dent in his fragile reputation?_ A sudden but short-lasting wave of anger rose then fell.  _God, what am I thinking?_

"Hey. We  _can_  tell you what to do, runt. You're in no position to fight back. I'd advise you obey your elders and leave."

The voice was Troye's, who sounded irked and fed up with the kid's attitude. Apparently that did hell of a lot more than whatever Dan had futilely attempted and it didn't take long for the remnants of the group to give up and leave. Dan could practically hear the entire population of the bakery sigh in relief, Dan and Troye included. The rush finally caught up to him and Dan could feel his breathing start to quicken and heart start to pound faster, the sound echoing loudly throughout his ears and drowning out any other sound. He could feel himself shaking and sweating, even though he felt cold. He could hear Troye start to ask if he was ok, but before he could make his decision on what to say he was already being helped to the kitchen and set gently on the floor, legs flopping uselessly to the side. The cold wall did nothing to ground him, Troye's normally soothing touch doing nothing. His mind was hazy, half-forming thoughts but never actually finishing them.

Dan watched as he left, anxiety increasing slightly as he was left alone, but when Troye returned it decreased. Troye wasn't alone, though, he'd brought Phil back with him. The mere sight of the artist set Dan into another spiral.  _I don't want him to see me like this,_ he thought weakly.  _He doesn't deserve it and I can't handle it._ He started to try to get up, fingers weakly twitching and legs moving slightly, the movements getting more frantic as Phil inched closer.  _Please, go away._

Phil didn't, however, only getting closer until he tentatively touched Dan's hand, wrapping it with his own. Phil's hand was warm and he wasn't shaking, so despite Dan's attempts to pull away he stayed, crouched on the floor. Troye was also nearby, running a hand through his curls to get him out of his face. He murmured something to Phil before dashing upstairs, leaving them alone once again. His eyes seemed to drill into Dan but he didn't have the energy to move so he avoided it by looking anywhere else but him.

"Ça va aller. Ça va passer."

Dan had no idea what those words meant, but the foreign tone and deep voice calmed him slightly. Seeing that it helped (even if only a little bit) he began to speak in a stream, probably about random and completely unrelated things but it didn't matter.

"Londres est une très belle ville. Il en va de même pour les boulangeries. Saviez-vous que vous et votre ami faites de très bons biscuits. Oh, merci pour le voyage autour de Londres. C'était amusant." He smiled kindly. Before he could say anything more Troye came back, Dan's plain black journal and a pen in his hands. He put it to the side, visibly relaxing when he saw that Dan looked a little calmer. He and Phil exchanged a few more words before Troye started talking to him calmly. "Dan? Can you breathe for me?"

He weakly nodded, breath catching in his throat as he ran through his exercises.  _4-7-8. 4-7-8. 4-7-8._ After several more tries of trying to slow his breathing, he did, his thoughts coming into focus and the depressing afterthoughts filled his mind like a waterfall.

_Weak. They don't need you or want you. Who'd want a deadweight like you, anyway? You freak out at the simplest thing. Must be tiring for Troye to constantly have to take care of you. He doesn't want to, I bet. He's just doing it out of pity. And Phil? He thinks of you as just another fan, just someone to boost his reputation. Careful, if you get close you might break something._

He looked over to see Troye scribbling into the journal, recording the event. Phil was now sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at him with a mix of emotions in his eyes.  _What does he think of me now?_ Dan attempted to smile, earning one back and turned away, still doing his breathing routine. Troye finished logging and tapped the pen on the floor, about to speak but before he could he was interrupted by the soft jingle of the door's bell. He promptly got up, leaving the pen and journal on the floor and whispered to Phil  _again_ before leaving the room. Phil spent a few more moments just watching him curiously before speaking.

"Voudriez-vous vous lever?" He offered a hand and Dan took it, still slowing down his heartbeat. Phil helped Dan stand, the other hand on his shoulder. When he was fully on his feet, he pitched forward, reaching forward to catch himself on the island but being caught by Phil before he could. With hands around his middle Phil helped him to the island, letting him lean against it but not letting go. Dan breathed heavily, trying to catch his breath, not asking Phil to move.

"Why...why didn't you do anything to shoo them away?" He heard Phil sigh. "Je suis désolé. I didn't want them to lash out or make a bigger scene."  _What?_  "But they look up to you! Do you know what fans would do for the people they respect and idolize? They'd do anything! You could've told them to quiet down, at least. I wouldn't have had to ask them to leave and we wouldn't be here!" Dan knew his anger was bordering on the irrational side but he couldn't help himself. "I could still be taking orders, like usual. I wouldn't be standing here, to shaky to stand on my own." Phil then stepped back, letting his arms fall from his middle. Dan swayed, gripping the island tighter. Phil moved to stand next to him, listening patiently.

"This is pathetic. I am pathetic." He ground his teeth together in frustration. "This is why...is why..." He didn't finish, only trailed off and turned away, choking back the angry tears that threatened to fall.  _Crybaby. A pathetic, whiny crybaby._ Phil didn't say anything, only observing his entire breakdown in silence. Dan stood a little longer, letting himself wallow in his pool of unreasonable anger and misery. He could hear Phil moving about but didn't bother looking up until Phil snapped his fingers and made him look up. He held the pen and notebook out to him.

"Didn't Troye say you needed a list?"

Dan took the items, albeit hesitantly. "How did you hear that?" Phil smirked in amusement. "You're not exactly quiet sometimes." Dan's mind took that exact moment to go down a whole different road and he blushed in embarrassment. "Oh. Sorry?" The other laughed. "It's fine. Do you want me to help? Or leave? Will you be ok?" Dan blinked rapidly at the waterfall of questions. "Um. Your choice. I think I'll be ok." He flipped to the back of the book, doodling absentmindedly in the margins. "Also. I'm-I'm sorry about what I said. I didn't mean it." Phil shrugged, fiddling with the sleeves of his blue jumper. "C'est bon." Dan breathed deeply a few times more before moving, pushing the self-conscious thoughts out of his head. Phil occasionally suggested things to add to the list, or scratch off, Dan following every single time. Soon they had compiled a pretty long list, which confused Dan because he  _swore_ Troye went last week.

For the majority of the next few hours, they sat on the floor, leaning against the island, just talking. Dan enjoyed his company, though he wasn't sure what Phil thought of him.  _I wish I knew._ Troye had come in a few times to check on them; Dan caught him smiling at them out the corner of his eye.  _God. Sometimes he's a bigger shipper than the fans._

After a while, the talk died out and Phil started to doze, eyelids low and body tilting to the side. His foot sagged to the side as he nodded off. "Um. Phil." Dan poked him gently. He woke with a start, rubbing his eyes. "Hm?"

"Do you plan on going shopping and out to dinner with us? You don't have to, and I'd have to ask Troye, but..." Phil yawned, readjusting himself so he was leaning more comfortably. "I'm free the whole day today, so if Troye says it's ok then I can go." He pulled the cuffs of his jumper over his head and closed his eyes, falling quickly back into a light slumber. Dan smiled. "Ok," he murmured, turning his attention to the journal and pen that littered the tile beside him. He picked them up and flipped over to one of the clean pages in the back, where he then started to draw, hesitating slightly then diving all in.

-

"Psst. Dan."

"Dan, hey! Wake up."

Fingers jabbed into his side and he groaned at the intrusion, eyes scrunching up in disgust. "What?" He growled sleepily, hiding behind his hands. "Time to get up. The bakery's closed." Dan peeked out from his hands. "What? Already?" Troye laughed, shifting into a crouch. "You slept for a few hours. You must've been tired. Feeling better now?" Dan yawned, bringing his hands away from his face to stretch. "I 'spose." He held out his hand for Troye to take, who helped him up. He must've tugged him hard, though, because now he was falling straight into Troye, giggling and still half-asleep. "Ok, you big lump. Get your coat and let's go."

Dan hastily got his coat from his room, shrugging it on as he closed the door, grabbed his journal and a set of keys from the bowl. Troye was still in the kitchen, messing around with a few things in the fridge. "Where's Phil?" Dan asked as he closed the fridge door. "He's out front, waiting. I said he could come. Don't forget your phone," Dan backtracked, grabbed his phone from the counter and walked out, watching Phil type on his phone. The familiar swirl of nerves curled as he approached. "Troye said you were coming."

"Oui." He looked up briefly, then back to his phone. Dan stood internally chastising himself until Troye appeared, putting on the colourblocked jacket he loved so much. He stopped in front of them, checking briefly on Dan before asking Phil to change his hair. "It's really recognizable, even when it's all messy. Is there anything you can do?" His voice dropped to a whisper and he said something Dan couldn't hear. Phil nodded then roughed his hair up with his hand until it was a messy mop on his head. "Est-ce mieux?"

Dan huffed. "You look like a tornado ran through your hair."

"Bien."

-

The automatic doors of the Tesco opened and they hurried inside, out of the cold wind that blew around outside. Only Troye was with Dan, they'd sent Phil out to get the pizza (armed with the knowledge of their favourite things to get.) He'd meet them back at the bakery.

Considering it was only around  _4:30,_ the Tesco wasn't as busy as it usually was.  _Well. Less stress for me._ Dan scanned the list, memorizing it before handing it to Troye. "Divide and conquer?" He took it but didn't move. "You'll be ok?" Dan nodded. "I'll be fine." Troye then spun off into the opposite direction while Dan went the other.  _Ok. First, sugar._ He grabbed a basket and ran through the list in his head, picking up each thing as he went.

Now he was standing in the snacks isle, looking for the gummies he wanted.  _They were here last time, where'd they go?_ He was so engrossed in his search for them that he didn't hear Troye calling him. "Dan! Hello, earth to Dan?" He finally snapped out of it when Troye slapped his back. "Ow! What?" His friend pointed to the teen that was currently standing next to Troye. "They want a picture."  _Oh. Didn't see them before. Sure do now, though._ Before he could stop himself, he spoke.

"You kind of look like a mini Jacksepticeye."

The teen laughed, Troye looked done with him and Dan clapped a hand over his mouth, cheeks flaming red. "I am so sorry-" They waved him off with a smile. "It's fine. I get it all the time."  _Do they really? Interesting._ "You said you wanted a picture? If you still want one after my idiotic comment then I'll be surprised." They laughed again. "Of course!" They thanked him after, Dan and Troye leaving the store soon after.

"Can you ask Phil if he's got the pizza yet?" Dan took out his phone to see that he'd already texted, saying he'd gotten it and was waiting outside the bakery. "He's already got it and waiting. We can go to Dennys another time, yeah?" Troye rolled his eyes, an affection smile on his face as he shoved him gently. "Yeah. Let's get back to your boyfriend." Dan gaped. "Boyfriend?" He sputtered, embarrassed. "He's not my boyfriend!" His friend arched his eyebrows. "Mhm. You've been almost obsessed with him since day one. You're like that creepy fanboy."

"Ok, I am not a creepy fanboy. No, I don't need that reminder. Also, I'm pretty sure he's straight and has a lot of other fans that like him as much as I do." They waited at a crosswalk, watching the cars go by. Troye still had a cheeky smile on his face. "So him practically flirting with you wasn't nothing?" Dan shoved him forward as the cars stopped. "Flirting with me? When did he do that?" Buildings became familiar as they got closer to the bakery. "Honestly, Dan, you are  _hopeless._ " He sighed. "Alright. I think I get it."

"Good. Cause he's right there."

Dan almost tripped over his own feet. "Way to go, Danny-boy." He huffed and ran to catch up, turning the corner and seeing Phil lounging against Blue Moon's door, messy hair and all. "Hello!" He called out as they approached. "We're back!" Phil looked up from his phone, smiling and tucking it into his back pocket. He ignored Troye's  _I told you_ look and hurried past him, fumbling for the key before finally unlocking the door. He carried his bags back to the kitchen, where he dumped them on the counter and flipped on the lights. When he went back out, Troye was taking pizza boxes, laying them out on one of the booth tables. "What did you get? Did you get all the dips?"

"Oui.  _All_ the dips." Phil turned a bag upside-down and Dan nearly cheered at the dips that fell out. "Thank you!" He slid into the booth, sitting next to the window, organizing the dips into a straight line. Troye sat on the opposite side. "Did the person at the register think you were crazy?" Phil put the smaller boxes of fries, chicken nuggets and cookies on the end of the table, hesitating slightly before sitting next to Dan, who instantly looked at Troye, who winked. "Yes. She looked at me like she was worried for my health. Three pizzas, eight dips and one order each of fries, nuggets and cookies. Is this what you guys usually get?" Dan scratched the back of his head. "Well, we don't usually get more than one or two pizzas unless the other three come over, but everything else is what we usually get. Because Dan is weird."

"Hey! You're the one who calls them nugs." Troye held out his hands. "Fine." They stopped arguing to open the pizza boxes, only to erupt into another argument when Troye and Dan reached for the same slice of barbeque. When Troye finally convinced Dan to take another slice everything quieted down as they ate. After two slices Troye spoke again.

"What brought you to London, Phil? And what led you here, of all places?"

It took a moment for him to respond, but when he did there wasn't much of an answer. "I'm staying in London for a three-month break, then I'll head back to Paris to continue working on my next project. As for what led me here, I was just really wandering the streets, looking for something do. I was kind of hungry too, so when I saw your bakery and that it wasn't busy I decided to go check it out." A half-smile appeared on his face. "I guess it was a good idea then?" Dan nodded quickly. "Good idea. Very good idea." Troye started to snicker at him and Dan took a handful of fries and stabbing them into dips to get his attention away from himself. "Yeah. Glad you decided to come here. Though from now on we might have a huge increase in customers because some of them spotted you here today."

Phil laughed nervously. "Oh. Yeah. I'm sorry about that." Troye waved a hand. "Don't worry about it. You were bound to be spotted sometime, right?" He shrugged. "I guess." They both stopped abruptly to look at Dan, who ducked down, avoiding their searching gazes. "I'm fine," he muttered. The conversation returned to normal, with Dan nudging the remaining chicken nuggets closer to Phil when he seemed to keep staring at them but never made any move to take them.

When there was only a few slices of each pizza left they started to clean up, Phil quickly saying goodbye and leaving the bakery. Dan slumped down into the booth, putting his face in his hands and groaning. Troye laughed at his predicament. "See what I mean?"

"Yes. Fine. We'll speak no more of this. I'll help you clean."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dennys brands is a real store in london  
> the ending is shit but i'm tired and can't be bothered to change it
> 
> french in this chapter:  
> \- je suis désolé je: i am sorry i  
> \- a été distrait: was distracted(?)  
> \- est-tu bon: are you good/ok  
> \- ça va aller. ça va passer: it will be fine. it will pass  
> \- Londres est une très belle ville: London is a very pretty city  
> \- il en va de même pour les boulangeries: the same goes for the bakeries  
> \- saviez-vous que vous et votre ami faites de très bons biscuits: did you know that you and your friend make very good cookies  
> \- merci pour le voyage autour de Londres: thank you for taking me around London  
> \- c'était amusant: it was fun  
> \- voudriez-vous vous lever: would you like to get up  
> \- c'est bon: it's good  
> \- est-ce mieux: is it better  
> -


	8. eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> true story: a few months ago i _did_ microwave butter. and it _did_ explode in the microwave. cleaning that was not fun
> 
> i feel like connor hasn't gotten enough recognition so far so here he is (for a little bit) :))
> 
> edit: troye's 'lucky strike' video is fucking amazing shoot me with that vintage beach aesthetic
> 
>  
> 
> **all recipes in here are from my little Christmas cookie recipe book! they're all very short recipes so if you want to know the full text of it i could literally write it in a comment**

Dan didn't  _expect_ to be lectured on the importance of December first, but here he was, cereal turning soggy in his bowl as Troye rambled in front of him.

It was only six am; he'd went to bed at two after a Wikipedia binge (which probably wasn't the best idea) but hey, it's hard to stop. Space and the fabric of reality are very time-consuming subjects.

For the past week and few days it'd been horrendously normal, which is something he would've preferred before but now it seemed to drag on and on. He was starting to get used to an internationally-famous artist walk in their bakery almost every day, greet them and hang out for a few hours.  _That is something I thought I'd never see, especially when their name is Philip Lester._ He continued to contemplate his changing life over his breakfast until Troye snapped his fingers in front of his face.

"Dan! Are you listening?"

His head shot off his hands, nodding halfheartedly in a daze. "Sure." Troye looked unimpressed. "What'd I just say?"

"That today we need to...get the decorations from the closet. And set everything up. And start looking for winter-themed recipes." Dan yawned. "S'that right?" His friend shrugged. "Good enough."  _I only know this because you've given the same speech every December first for the past four or five years. I won't forget._ "Can I finish my breakfast now?" Troye winced. "I don't know if you want to eat...soggy cereal. We have those muffins we made yesterday in the kitchen if you want some."

Sighing, Dan got up and dumped his bowl in the sink, washing it down with water and taking a few muffins from the plate on the counter. "So the bakery's closed today, right?" He asked when he got back, dropping heavily into chair. "Yeah. We'll have the whole day to get ready for my favourite time of year." Dan peeled off the wrapper after one of the muffins. "I thought you liked summer the best? We've gone to Brighton in the summer before and you loved it."

"What, am I not allowed to have two favourite times of the year?"

"Fair point. You want to start right after breakfast?" Dan received a nod. "Yep! Just make sure to change into something you wouldn't mind getting dirty. There's a possibility." Dan erupted into laughter. "Oh? Like last year? When the butter exploded in the microwave, then you tripped carrying that three-tier cake we made for our Christmas party?" Troye cringed, covering his face with both hands as he blushed madly. "Let's not. I don't want to remember the cake bath I took on the bakery floor. Kindly shut up."

"Sure. It's good blackmail material, you can't lie." Troye muttered a few choice words, swatting playfully at him. "I'm going to leave before you make this worse." The chair scraped as he got up. "Hey! You brought this upon yourself!" Troye ignored him and disappeared into his room, leaving Dan to clean up the small mess on the table. He hummed as he stacked everything in the dishwasher, quickly wiping down the table and countertop before going into his own room to take a short shower, throwing on a pair of black joggers striped with thin white lines and pairing it with one of his old black t-shirts.

Troye was dressed in a white floral shirt and pale pink ripped jeans, a pair of mismatched socks on his feet. "Nice void look, Dan."

"Thanks, princess." He shot back, causing Troye to fling himself at him and wrap him in a crushing hug. "Alright," Dan coughed out. "I won't say it again." Troye relaxed his grip, an innocent smile on his face. "Love you." Dan shot out of the kitchen, flinging himself over and onto the couch, laughing the entire time. "You really hate pet names, don't you?" Troye leapt over the couch after him, Dan letting out an  _oof_ as he landed on top and began to wrestle him.

"You're not stronger than me, Troye." Dan grunted out as his arm was pressed back over his head. "Or," He struggled to shove Troye off - "You might be." He yelped in mock pain when he was finally pinned, Troye smugly smirking down. "What was that, Dan?" He cooed. "What was that?"

"You're stronger!" He broke into laughter, still fighting against the strong hold. "I submit! Let me go." Troye held him for a moment longer before letting him go, Dan sitting up and shaking out his hair. "You're stronger than I thought." Troye held out a hand, helping him get up. "Yeah. I know." Dan punched him lightly and they finally started to take out the Christmas decorations, box after box until they had all four on the floor in the living room. Troye tossed down a string of white lights before shutting the doors and going to help Dan with taking everything out.

"Ew. What is this?" Dan held up a sticky mass of plastic wrapping, stray tinsel and bits of peppermint. "That...might be a mix of the things from the bottom of the box and one of the candy canes for the tree. Wonderful." His nose scrunched up and he plucked it from Dan's fingers, tossing it into the bin they'd brought into the living room. Pretty soon they had all the lights, tinsel strings and stray candy canes spread out on the table.

"Ok. You want to set up the lights first?" Dan nodded, fingers tapping the table as he thought. "Where are they going? Same places as last year?"

"Why not." They started to divide the lights into groups, some for the living room and hallway, while others were for the outside and down in the kitchen. They didn't normally decorate too much in the main area of the bakery since it already had a lot of neon and regular lighting.

"Living room or outs-" Troye was interrupted as his phone rang. He held up a finger as he answered, leaving Dan to toss a tangle of lights from hand-to-hand.

"Oh-Yeah, that's fine-Now is ok-Are you coming with the others?-Ok. See you in a bit." Troye ended the call and turned to Dan. "Connor says he wants to come and help with the lights. He won't be able to stay for the entire day, only a few hours." He checked Dan's reaction. "That's fine. How long till he gets here?" Troye grabbed a bundle of white lights. "About ten minutes. He said we could start without him." Dan nodded. "Well, you know after the lights, we have to do the tree..." Troye groaned. "Let's not talk about that mess right now. Lights first. Tree later."

"You wimp. Fine. You start on the right side, I'll go left and meet you in the middle." Dan headed over to the far-left corner, opposite to Troye, who started near the kitchen. He stood on the stool, taping up the lights as he went.  _Tape. We are so cheap._ He continued across the flat wall, almost falling off with surprise when Troye's phone rang again. "Fuck, that scared me," he breathed, hand to his chest as Troye shot him a smile. The call wasn't long, Connor must've been calling to say he'd arrived. "I'll go let him in, you can continue." Dan nodded and Troye quickly thumped down the stairs, leaving his string of lights dangling on the wall. He winced as they caused the tape to peel from the wall and before the lights could fall Dan darted over and taped it back up. Just as he was stepping down from the ladder he heard the door to the flat open and voices float up.

"Hey Conner! Welcome!"

Connor and Troye bounded up the stairs, Dan enveloping Connor in a hug. "How've you been the past week?" Connor shrugged. "Pretty normal. Genovia decided to knock down my cactus, though." He laughed. "Other than that, nothing much. Wasn't too bad of a clean-up and the cactus was fine so..." Dan shook his head. "Poor cactus. I hope Genovia's ok, though." Connor nodded. "She's fine. Still fat and happy."

Dan laughed. "You can put your coat down here, we're almost done with the living room. We can do the kitchen and outside after. Troye, do I need to get on the roof again?" The man in question continued to tape up the lights as he answered. "Of course! That's your favourite part! Remember when the constable yelled at you to get down or he'd fine you?"

"And I had to explain myself? Yes, I remember that." Connor sat on the couch, watching both of them get closer and closer with their separate light strings. "Wait. Really? How come I've never heard about this?" Dan stretched to get the final lights up. "Well, it's not something I'm too proud of, so..." Connor raised his eyebrows. "Fair enough."

Dan stepped down as he finished, stepping back and watching as Troye taped up his end. "Nicely done. Now where's the extension cord?" Dan fished around in the piles on the table, finding it and plugging it in on the far-left wall. When he connected the lights Troye sighed in satisfaction. "Looks good." The white lights cast a gentle glow over the room, illuminating the ceiling.

"Great! Next, kitchen. You two can work on that since there isn't much to do in there and I'll untangle the rest of the strands for outside." They then headed down with two strands, voices floating up to Dan, who sat on the floor untangling lights. Soon they were back up, joining him. This part always took forever, so many of the lights were in huge messes. When they looked to be about halfway through Dan hopped up and grabbed the muffin plate, a substantial amount still left.

"So Connor, what do you what do you have after this?" Dan took a muffin, temporarily stopping his untangling. "A vet appointment for Genovia at two then I'll head over to Tyler's to film a video with him. If he's out of bed." His fingers combed expertly though the lights. "What? Why would he  _still_ be in bed then? That's insane!"

"Afternoon nap. You know he's lazy when it comes to some things." Troye sighed, shaking his head. "Someone needs to stop him from doing that." Connor laughed. "It won't be me. I'm too nice." Dan finished straightening out a strand and laid it out behind him. "You are." They continued in casual banter until there were only crumbs on the plate and the strands were all laying in lines behind each of them.

"Are we hooking these together before we hang them up?" Troye nodded and they began the process of stringing every strand together, which in the end left them with one lengthy strand of lights. Troye had Dan and Connor wrap it around his arm so he could carry it downstairs. Connor followed him while Dan ran to his room, quickly opening the window and stepping out onto the roof. He instantly ducked back in, shivering.  _God, it's December. Of course I'm going to need a hoodie._ Dan pulled the black fabric over his head and smoothed it down, only glancing down at his feet once before shrugging off any concern for them. _I'll be fine._

Soon he was back out in the chilly air, letting the wind blow through his hair. Dan carefully walked the short distance to the neon O, which was currently unlit. He peeked out from behind it, looking down to see Troye standing with the lights still wrapped around his arm, Conner waving in excitement. Dan waved back then ducked back behind the O, letting go and carefully (almost) crawling down the short slope to the thin edge at the end, where he got on his knees, holding out a hand for the lights. Troye said something to Connor, who went back inside but came back out with the stepstool, setting it up for Troye, who then was able to hand one end to Dan.

He could hear the few whispers that came from passerby’s, curious at what they were doing. His face turned a shade redder but he ducked and avoided their eyes, doing his best to drown them out. Dan hung the lights on the mini silver hooks they already had nailed into the overhang, crawling along as he went, Troye following. He expertly attached each length of lights, so quickly that he had to wait for Troye to catch up. When he reached the corner and hung the last few inches Dan sat on the corner, letting his legs dangle over the edge. Troye finished his part and stepped down, giving Dan a thumbs up, then yelling up "wait!" as he took his phone. Presuming he was taking a picture, Dan held up a peace sign and smiled, then scurried back up the roof and into his room through the open window, sighing in content when he stepped in. Dan closed the window but didn't take off his hoodie, instead putting on some socks before heading out to collapse on the couch.

Troye and Connor entered soon after; Troye carrying the stepladder and Connor behind him. He set it against a wall and joined Dan on the couch, leaning up against him. Connor settled on the floor, propping himself up against the couch and taking out his phone. Troye took his out as well and a short time later Dan's phone buzzed in his back pocket. The notification was on Troye's Instagram account, the photo of Dan on the roof with a peace sign. He smiled and liked it then swung his phone up and snapped a picture of Troye, putting it on his own story.

**danielhowell: sneak photo #1**

"You fucker. Game on." Troye crinkled his nose and head-butted him.

They laid around for a while, just relaxing until Connor got up, saying he had to leave. Dan and Troye both hugged him, saying goodbye as he promised to see them again soon. Dan gave him a final parting hug and he gathered his jacket and left. Dan waited until he heard the door close to tap Troye on the shoulder. "When do you want to start?" He looked up from his phone. "After lunch?" Dan nodded and they went back to scrolling on their phones for the next hour.

When it was a little after noon, Dan gently moved Troye off of him and got up, padding quietly to the kitchen to see what they had in the fridge.  _Leftover pizza will do,_  he though as he pulled the box out. They'd had pizza again last night after a particularly long day, neither of them having much motivation to do anything other than order it and eat it (but of course after that Dan got  _no_ sleep until two am) so there was still a decent amount left over. He grabbed a slice and sat back down on the couch, watching the blank tv as he ate.

Halfway through his second slice Troye woke up, stretching and laying his feet on Dan's lap. "S'it noon already?" Dan nodded, finishing off the crust. "Can you get me a slice then?" Dan rolled his eyes at Troye's childish expression and got up, shoving his feet off his legs. "Can I have a pepperoni, please?" Dan huffed but brought out the other box, taking one for Troye and one for himself. When he got back he handed one to Troye and they resumed their original position, Troye setting his feet on Dan's lap again.

"What do we plan on making? And how much?" Troye hummed around the pizza. "I don't know. Haven't cracked open the good 'ol Christmas-only recipe books yet so I can only say I'm not sure." Dan picked up his phone again. "Are we filming this?" Troye paused. "Eh. Not this year. It can be a personal thing." Dan nodded, then turned off his phone, placing it on the coffee table. He held out a hand to Troye helping him up. "Ready?" Troye nodded, putting his phone next to Dan's and heading downstairs. Dan turned on the string lights when they entered, not bothering with the others since it was still daylight.  _I need my aesthetics._

Troye was already at what they liked to call the Christmas Cupboard, a set of shelves dedicated to just Christmas and all their Christmas recipe books. _Extraordinary, honestly. Is it healthy to have this many Christmas-only recipe books?_  Troye managed to get down five of them before one toppled out after, almost hitting him on the head. Dan rushed over and caught it right before it hit him, laughing. "You need to be more careful. Let me get these, I'm taller." Troye's expression went from concentration to annoyance as Dan pushed him out of the way to grab the rest of the books. As soon as he'd set them all down, though, Troye punched him in the side, making him double over. "I may be shorter, but I will always be stronger. Fight me." Dan wheezed, half laughter and half trying to get his breath back. The only thing that was running through his mind was that  _he's such a spicy cinnamon roll._

"Augh! Let me go!" Dan giggled and fought back weakly. Troye stepped back, laughing a bit himself before going to flip through the recipe books on top. Dan gathered himself and joined him, marking pages as he went. "Woah, Troye, slow down. I don't think we'll be making eight recipes." Troye waved his hand. "Hush. It's only suggestions." Dan laughed. "Okay."

-

They'd only gotten through around half of the stack but had markers sticking out everywhere in the books they'd gone through so Dan had to practically drag Troye away from the book-strewn countertop. He put his hands on Troye's shoulders, looking him straight in the eyes. "We're going to organize the ones we marked, but  _only the ones we marked._ Got it?"  _The lengths I have to go to keep this Christmas fan under control._ Troye stared right back, nodded seriously and let Dan steer him back over to the island. He took one book and handed Dan another, flipping to the first marked page. The bold letters at the top of the page read  _Pecan Tassies._ It was a very short recipe, simple and sweet. "That's fine," Dan approved after running his finger down the page. "Keep that marker in then. What's the next one?" Troye pointed, watching as Dan's eyes scanned the page. "Meringues? Remember the last time we tried to make those? They-"

"They were burned to the point that they looked like shit and were roasted by Gordan Ramsey on Twitter. Yes, Dan, I remember." They both fell silent for a moment before breaking out in laughter. "Good lord. Let's take a moment to remember that." They were only able to stay silent for a few seconds before bursting into laughter yet again. "God." Dan took the marker out, setting it on the countertop and flipping to the next marked page.  _Orange Iced Cranberry Cookies._

Dan went through Troye's selection until he'd narrowed it down to three, then hoisted himself onto the island as Troye went through his, humming and tapping his fingers. Dan swung his legs gently as he watched, gathering up the extra makers and stacking them. When Troye was done, there looked to be about an equal number of markers in the pages, with the exception of a few pages in the back that he had kept apart with his fingers. "What're those for?" Dan asked. "I thought we could try these for the bakery. Limited-edition-December-type-thing."

"Ooh. Good idea! What do you have in mind?" Troye showed him, Dan nodding in approval and handing him five markers from his little pile.

"What do you want to start with?" Troye asked as they put the unmarked books back into the cupboard. "How about the pecan cookies? Though last time we didn't have any pecans. Walnuts, maybe." He crouched and rifled through one of their storage areas. Dan crouched next to him, watching as he moved bags of sugar and cranberries out of the way. "Yeah. Here." He handed back the bag of unopened walnuts. Dan took it and set it on the counter, letting him get up. They stared at each other before Troye told him to get the mixer out.

All of the recipes they'd chosen weren't that hard, they were a type of on-the-go type recipes. After they mixed the cream cheese, butter, flour and salt it had to chill for an hour, so they decided to go ahead and make another recipe while they were waiting. (Troye insisted that they should make the orange-cranberry ones.)

Dan agreed and set the dough in the refrigerator while Troye cleaned the mixing bowl. "Ok. What do we need?" Troye set the metal bowl back in the stand, leaning over to read the recipe. "Sugar. Brown sugar. Butter. Sour cream. Vanilla..." Dan flitted around as he called out each ingredient, setting them next to the mixing bowl. When he was done Dan read the recipe himself, adding in all the wet ingredients except the eggs (he let Troye add those.) However when Troye cracked one of the eggs into the bowl it broke unevenly, leaving little bits of shells in the mixture.

"Troye! Really?" Troye tossed the empty eggshells to the side and reached in, lightly picking the pieces out. "Sorry!" He flicked his hand over the bin, discarding the eggshells while Dan turned the mixer back on. He added the flour, baking soda, baking powder and salt, then dumped in the cranberries. When everything was blended well together, Dan stopped the mixer and scraped down the sides then grabbed two teaspoons, handing one to Troye. They scooped out teaspoons of dough, making neat lines until two sheets were filled. Troye put them in the oven and while they were baking started to clean the area up.

When the alarm went off on Dan's phone for the Pecan Tassies cookies went off, he brought it out and divided it, pressing it into a muffin tin. While Troye was on his phone he mixed the filling, putting it in the dough and waiting for the other cookies in the oven to finish. Dan passed the time by asking him about the rest of the decorations that were currently still sitting in boxes on the floor or spread out all over said floor. "I don't know? Probably tomorrow. If I feel like taking out that damn tree out." Dan laughed and nudged his friend. "Comon, you know you want to. You'd be lost if we didn't have it out." He sighed. "Fine. I still hate it though. Why can't we buy a new one?"

"Because  _you're_ the one who keeps insisting we keep it." Right then the oven beeped and Dan went over to take the cookies out, leaving Troye to put them on the wire racks while he adjusted the temperature and put in the others. "How can you keep attacking me like this?" Troye looked betrayed and Dan just laughed quietly. "I don't. All the information is already there." Dan set another timer on his phone. Troye didn't say anything else, only mumbled to himself. "Let's just finish this."

-

By the time they were finished, it was around five and they had all the cookies lined up on the island. The kitchen was filled with the warm, inviting aromas of six different types of treats; both of them could hardly keep themselves from taking one. "You know..." Dan started. "Why don't we post a picture to Instagram then eat these for dinner and watch a movie. Sound good?" Troye nodded and Dan took a picture and an Instagram story before pocketing his phone and snatching one of the chocolate snow-top cookies and biting into it, jokingly moaning as he did so.

"Woah, calm down there Daniel." Troye reprimanded around a walnut cookie. Dan winked. "It's good. What can I say?"

"You don't need to say anything. Just bring some upstairs and I'll find some movies for us to watch." Dan nodded, grabbing another cookie before he got a serving plate from the cupboard and piling it with cookies, quickly walking up the stairs to find Troye standing in front of the tv. "I got the snacks." Troye didn't look away from the screen when he set the platter down so he sat on the couch, watching as Troye messed with the tv.

After a few minutes Troye turned around. "I've got our movies set up. You have the cookies-" He pointed at the oversized plate- "And there's rosé in the fridge." Dan arched his eyebrows, lips forming an  _O._ "Oh? So you say. Shall I get it?" Troye nodded and Dan leapt up, turning on the lights in the kitchen and taking the bottle of wine from the side door. He took two wine glasses from the cabinets above the sink and set them on the counter with a  _clink._

"You almost done, Dan? I'm ready to start!" Dan poured faster as he responded. "Wait! You're so impatient." Troye laughed and Dan put the rosé back, walking back in with two glasses balanced delicately in his hands. Troye was already seated on the couch, remote in hand. Dan glanced over as he set both glasses down,  _It's a Wonderful Life_ on screen. "Ah. What a classic. What else do you have in line?" He sat next to Troye, curling his legs under him. "Not saying anything. You'll like it. If you can stay awake that long." He grinned. "Hey! It's not my fault I fall asleep at movies. That's like me blaming you every time you fall asleep on the train."

Troye waved off his complaints, instead pressing  _play_ and letting the movie's soundtrack fill the room.

-

Dan didn't know when he started to grow sleepy, he didn't remember the exact moments when his eyelids started to droop, or the moment when he'd finally closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him.

He didn't remember the sound the half-eaten cookie made when it slipped from his hands and hit the plush cushions of the couch. He didn't recall the small laugh Troye had let slip from his lips when he'd slumped to the side, halfway through their third movie.

-

When Dan awoke, it was dark, the tv was silent and any lights they'd had on before were off. The mostly-empty wine glasses sat abandoned on the table, next to the platter that now just held a few cookies and lots of crumbs. He yawned and tried to stretch out his cramped legs but he didn't go very far because of Troye, who was laid out on his legs, arm dangling off the edge. His brown curls were messily splayed all over the place, Dan only managed to brush some of them out of his face until he dropped his arm back down, still half-asleep.

So he closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ugh i'm sorry for the bad quality and shortness of it, i got writers block and lost motovation towards the end but i really wanted to get this out so idk about this :'( i might take this next week off to focus on school and get some motovation back. i might plan out the story then, to get a rough idea of how many chapters there'll be.
> 
> no french in this chapter!
> 
> i am addicted to glass animals rn i've got like the same 3 songs on repeat


	9. nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah that was a nice break now back to work c:
> 
> the next few chapters are going to be awkward to write because it'll be holiday season and a year behind. fun.
> 
> (note: Piccola is made by me :))  
> edit: currently my google chrome is being stupid and won't update so I have to work on safari, but that means it autocorrects all the French (like 'oui' to 'out') but hey what can I do :\

_Bzzt. Bzzt._

Dan groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. He shifted onto his side, facing away from the repetitive noise.  _What is that-_

_Riiing!_

Dan angrily sat up, in a daze as he snatched his phone from the coffee table. He didn't bother to look at the caller ID, instead just swiping to accept it. "What! Do you want?"

"Dan?"

Dan snapped awake. "What?"

"Did I wake you up?" Ryan asked, clearly caught off-guard by his fiery greeting. "Um. Yes. Why?" The line went silent for a moment and Dan glanced over at Troye, who was still sleeping, one arm hanging off the edge and the other gathered under his head. "Well...it's nine thirty, and you were supposed to open half an hour ago. I'm out here with some others, and-oh yeah, Philip's here too." Dan heard a muffled sound and suddenly Phil's voice was on the line. "Salut, Daniel."

He started to talk but Dan had stopped listening, instead sitting frozen on the couch, staring at the wall. Thoughts whizzed around in his head.  _We were supposed to open thirty minutes ago. Thirty minutes. We're late, oh my fucking god we're late-_ "Ok sorry I'll be down in a minute-" Was all he managed to blurt out before ending the call and not-so-gently throwing it on the floor. Dan sprang into action, vaulting off the couch and darting into his bathroom, turning on the faucet and splashing ice-cold water on his face. Now fully awake he dried himself off and went through his closet, hastily picking out a shirt at random and throwing it on, changing his jeans to identical ones when he was done. Dan ran back out, 100% sure his hair was a fucking mess, pressed down on one side, tangled and puffy on the other, but he didn't care at the moment.

When he made it back into the living room Troye was still asleep on the couch. Dan shook his friend violently, ignoring his shocked yelps. Troye grabbed Dan's arm, holding at away from his body and glaring up at him. "What the hell?" Dan snatched his arm back and ran into the kitchen, going through the cupboards to look for something to quickly eat. "We overslept. Suppost to open half an hour ago. Ryan called and said he was waiting outside with-" Dan cut off as Troye's bedroom door slammed shut. A small smile ghosted his face before disappearing, a frown taking over as he realised that they had close to nothing he could eat in five minutes.  _Maybe there's something in the kitchen._

"I'll be downstairs!"

Dan didn't wait for a response, instead he patted his hair and jogged down the stairs, opening the door into the kitchen.  _Ah! Right. We made all those cookies last night. I can eat some of these._ He took one at random, holding it in his mouth as he grabbed and tied his apron, half-jogging to unlock the front door before turning around, running back to get the keys. Dan could see Ryan with his face pressed against the glass, hands cupping it as he peered into the bakery. When he saw Dan he grinned, backing up and turning to the person beside him, eagerly talking to them.

He juggled the keys, eventually opening the door to a whirl of Ryan and cold air. "Dan!" He happily cried as he engulfed him in a hug. "How are you?"

Dan hummed around the cookie, returning the hug and stepping away, shivering. He grabbed Ryan's hand and tugged him into the bakery, hoping that Phil was following. As soon as they were all inside he shut the door, happy to be back inside. He was sure he was still a mess but that didn't matter right now. "I'm...not ok," he laughed, finally finishing the cookie. "Sorry for the delay." Dan self-consciously patted his hair again, glancing back and forth between Ryan and Phil. "Oh, don't worry. We all have those days." Ryan reassured. "But you look like you've just been through hell and back."

Dan laughed uncertainly. "Oh. Um. I didn't have much time to get ready." He shuffled back slightly, eyes flicking to the floor. "Come here." Ryan motioned for him to step closer and when he did Ryan pulled out a chair, pushing him down. He started to run his fingers through Dan's tangled hair, occasionally tugging hard at a stubborn knot. Dan closed his eyes and slumped down, relaxing as Ryan did his work. He could hear Troye tumble down the stairs and into the main area, a slew of apologies tumbling from his lips. He could hear Phil laugh and respond, then order two muffins, one more than usual.

After about ten minutes, Ryan patted his hands over Dan's curls. "I'm done." Dan still kept his eyes closed until Ryan tapped him on the shoulder, holding his phone in front, letting Dan look at the finished product and fix as necessary. It was a pretty good job, considering that he'd spent only fifteen minutes on it. Dan twirled one excessive curl around his finger before letting it spring back into place. "Thank you. At least I look presentable now."

Ryan laughed, taking back his phone. "I can tell you didn't spend too much time on your outfit. I've only seen you wear that jumper once or twice." Confused, Dan looked down at his top, cheeks reddening slightly as he realised what he was wearing.  _Ugh, really? The one thing I say I'm never confident enough to wear I choose to today?_ As if sensing his hesitation Ryan jumped in. "But hey, it looks good! You should keep it on." Dan plucked at the pastel blue fabric, running the knitted texture over his fingers, still unsure. "You think so? What if I get it dirty?"

"Then you can change it. Keep it on for now though, please?" He hugged Dan loosely around the neck. "For me?"

Dan rolled his eyes, patting Ryan on the arm. "Sure thing. Can I go work now?" People had started to filter in, the quiet murmur of their voices filling the dining area. Ryan let him go but not before asking him if he had everything prepared.  _You know me too well._

"Um. Not really? We were...busy last night. Baking other things." He got up, sliding the chair back under the table and walking towards the kitchen, greeting Troye as he went. "See?" Ryan slipped in behind him, eyes roaming the cookies they still had out. "Can I-" Dan smiled. "Go ahead." Ryan took one and stepped back, quiet for a minute. Dan then started to clear them away, putting them into plastic bags and storing them in the pantry tucked in the corner.

"Well-" He paused to bite the cookie- "How about I work up front, and you and Troye can work back here? I've got nothing else to do today, and..." Dan spun around, grabbing his friend by the shoulders. "Really?"

"Yeah?" Ryan responded, surprised. "Oh thank you, thank you!" He smiled. "It's the least I can do. Do you have an extra apron?" Dan bit his lip. "Oh, I meant to go to get some new ones weeks ago. Dammit." He thought for a minute, hands still on his friend's shoulders. "Hey. How about we go get some tonight. Are they open today?" Dan stood back up, pulling at his sleeves. "Maybe. I think so. Probably." He tugged at the apron's knot, untangling it and placing it over Ryan's head. "Here. Tell Troye he'd better get his ass back here so we can start baking." Ryan saluted with two fingers. "Sure thing." He turned to leave and Dan pulled him back by the loose apron strings, which he tied, then shoved him gently out of the kitchen.

A few seconds later Troye appeared, flustered and flipping him off. "Daniel." He slapped his hands down onto the island. "Troye." He copied. "We have work to do. And by work I mean make two batches of everything in the display case. Can we do it?"

Dan scoffed. "Can we do it? Of course! We've done it before, yeah? We can do it again." He held up a hand for a high-five and Troye punched it, both of them laughing as they started to work.

-

Two hours later they'd managed to double nearly everything, save for the blue moon muffins they were currently working on.

"Troye?"

"Yeah?"

Dan smoothly cut a curve into the leftover light blue fondant, cutting out a waning crescent. "Ryan and I were thinking of giving Dennys a look for those aprons I wanted to buy weeks ago but never did." He slid the knife under the crescent and moved it to the side, where Troye was waiting with a brush and a bowl of clear glaze. "Do you want to come with us?"

Troye was silent for a moment.  _Uh-oh. He's going to ask the inevitable. In 3...2...1..._ "What about the tree?"  _There we go._ "Well...how about we do that afterwards? It won't take us long to buy the aprons." He watched as Troye stalled, laying the fondant-moon icing-side down on the top of the chocolate muffin.

"I guess." Dan smiled internally, knowing he'd won. "I'll take these then." Troye let him and Dan backed out into the main area, greeting Ryan and setting the tray on the countertop. "How's business been?" He started to set them in neat lines inside the display. "Good so far! They all seem to think you've hired someone new. Only one person has tried to hit on me so far." Dan laughed. "So far. Just wait." Ryan shrugged. "I'll be ok." Dan started to retreat back into the kitchen, stopping when Ryan called his name.

"Oh! Dan. I forgot to tell you, but I've got a helper." He pointed to the left and Dan's eyes flicked over to the hot-chocolate decoration counter. Phil was standing over there, leaning against the window. He was wearing a blue moon apron and for the first time Dan noticed that Ryan wasn't wearing his. Phil noticed him looking and smiled, pocketing his phone and striding over.  _What the hell?_

"Ryan!" Dan hissed, glaring at his friend accusingly. However, he made no acknowledgements that Dan had actually spoken, other than a self-confident smirk.  _Ryan, you-_

"Daniel." Phil was suddenly standing in front of him and Dan barely spit out an answer. The black turtleneck and glasses (a new accessory) had caught him off guard. "What?" It sounded more angry than happy and he immediately tried to take it back, mentally face-palming. "Sorry-what?" Phil smiled, oblivious to his awkwardness. "Ryan said it was ok for me to help out while I was here and if I didn't have anything to do. Is that ok with you?"

 _Is it necessary for his voice to be this deep?_ Dan flushed, trying to push the thoughts to the back of his head. "Um, yeah. That's fine. Ah-W-What about the..." He paused, hesitant to say it in case he offended Phil. "...The fans. They were a problem last time..." He bit his lip anxiously and shuffled back. To Dan's surprise he didn't take offence but instead smiled. "It's fine. I can take care of them. I don't want you having another attack." His radiant smile quickly turned into a frown. "I don't want that happening again."

Dan blushed harder, eyes flicking around anywhere except Phil. They stood in awkward silence until Ryan broke it up and shoved Dan back into the kitchen, telling them they could flirt as much as they wanted later. "Hey! I am not-" He'd tried to argue, to no avail. Phil just smirked and waved, then walked out to collect trash and wipe down empty tables.

-

"I don't think I could thank you enough for helping us today," Dan told Ryan as they closed down the bakery. "We would've been under way more stress if you hadn't stepped in." Ryan shrugged, nonchalant. "No problem. It was a nice change from what I usually do. Friends help friends. But," He paused, looking back at Dan with a gleam in his eye. "Next time, keep the awkward public flirting to a minimum. You have a job."

Just like hours ago, Dan instantly turned a delicate shade of red, accompanied with a bunch of excuses. "Wh-No! How many times do I have to tell you he's not f-flirting with me?" Ryan tried to interrupt but Dan barreled on. "He was just checking on me." Ryan giggled. "I'm sure he was." Dan punched his arm. "He's not."

"Fine. You go talk to him, then. He looks lonely." Ryan nudged him in Phil's direction, earning a half-hearted glare from Dan. He spent a few more moments shifting from foot-to-foot, unsure, before making up his mind and walking over. He stopped in front of Phil, tucking his hands in his armpits and stood quietly, unsure of what to say. _This was a bad idea. Why the hell did I come over here? I should leave._

Just as he was turning around and stepping away Phil put a hand on his shoulder, spinning him back around. "Did you need something?" Dan's mind blanked and he stood silently, mouth open halfway. "N-No? Um, I mean, yes? Maybe?" Phil smirked again, putting his phone in his back pocket and crossing his arms, focusing on Dan. "What?"

"I...I was..." Dan's fingers tightened their grip on his pastel blue jumper. "I was wondering if you wanted to come along with us. Out in London." He squirmed before blurting out the phrase he'd told himself he wouldn't. "You don't have to." (But he really did hope that he could come along. He liked the company.)  _Please say yes, please say yes-_

"Oui." Dan's fingers loosened their grip and he sighed internally in happy relief. "O-Ok! Ryan! Phil says-"

"I heard. That's wonderful. Do you want me to tell Troye that we'll have someone tagging along?" Dan's eyes briefly flickered to Phil's before looking away. "Ah, yeah. Thank you." He smiled at Ryan, who ruffled his hair as he went by. "No problem." Dan wrinkled his nose and patted his hair back into place. The usually gentle  _click_ of the kitchen door seemed loud and brash in the silence that echoed after. They stood staring at each other, Dan shifting from foot-to-foot as he sought for something to fill the silence. Phil didn't seem to mind, however, as he pulled a cookie from the apron's pocket and broke it in half, handing one to Dan.

"Why...do you have a cookie in your pocket?"

"I was saving it for later. "I guess now is later." Dan accepted the half, biting into it and feeling grateful for any distraction from the cloud of silence. He bunched the jumper's extra sleeve length around his hands when he finished, holding them in front of his chest and running his tongue over his lips in a nervous habit.  _I can't believe it. I shouldn't. Standing in my own bakery, with my favourite musical artist. Just casually talking and about to go out and walk around downtown London. Is this real life, or is it fantasy? Am I dreaming?_ Running on that trail of thought he pinched himself, jerking back with a soft  _ow_ when he did.

"Tu vas bien? Quel as-tu fait?" Phil was instantly attentive, stepping forward into Dan's personal bubble and staring at him intensely. Dan felt the blush from earlier return to his cheeks full-force as he met Phil's gaze. "I'm fine," He eventually managed to say. "Just pinched myself." Phil continued to examine him until someone cleared their throat from behind them, causing both of them to jerk backwards. Dan whipped around and saw Troye leaning against the door frame, one eyebrow arched. "Are you ready to go?"

 _Oh my god, that looked different than what it actually was...he's going to ask me questions later._ Dan wanted the ground to swallow him right then and there. He covered his eyes with his arm and backed up, then ran past Troye into the kitchen, hightailing it to his room, muttering an excuse about 'I want to change my shirt.'

When he finally reached his room he locked the door, slumping against it and dropping his arm. He sighed heavily, wiping at the few anxious tears that dripped from his eyes.  _Get it together, Dan. You don't have time for this._ He ran through his exercises a few times until he felt calm enough to move. Dan stood in front of his open closet, fingering through the clothes until he picked a simple black hoodie. He looked at himself in the mirror, tugging the collar of the jumper a few times.  _Maybe I'll just put this on top._ Dan slid it over his head, tucking in the blue knitted fabric until it was all hidden under the hoodie. He brushed his hands through his curls and thought to himself.  _Is an earring too much?_

His gaze drifted over to his nightstand, where he knew the few earrings he had resided in the top drawer. Almost immediately he looked away.  _Maybe another day._

_But this is a start._

Dan unlocked his door, hesitating before going out, navigating the mess on the floor and pausing again at the top of the stairs. Quietly he went down, peeking out into the kitchen and then the seating area. Ryan, Troye and Phil were all standing by the doorway, talking quietly. Dan crept quietly out, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets as he approached and forcing a small smile onto his face.

"Let's go."

-

The weather was just what he had expected: chilly, windy and slightly humid. In short, not his  _favourite_ weather, but it would have to do.  _I hope it doesn't rain._

Dan was stuck in between Ryan and Troye, who seemed to be more excited about being out here than he was. He was fairly sure Phil was either behind him or off to the left. He wasn't talking much either.

"Dan! Where do you want to go?" He snapped out of his silence when Troye spoke, shooting him a confused glance. "Go where? I thought we were going to Dennys and heading back." Troye shook his head, suspiciously upbeat. "Nope! Ryan suggested we eat something while we're out and walk around a bit. It's December, it's London, and we're not working." Dan narrowed his eyes, caught off guard. "I thought you wanted to-" Troye cut him off, affectionately patting his head. "We can do that later."

_Who are you and what did you do to my friend?_

"Fine. I don't care where we eat, though. Your choice." As soon as the words were out of his mouth he knew what both of them were going to say.  _Piccola._

Piccola was a small, hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant in a less crowded area in the Soho district. They'd first found it when they were stumbling around after a... well-hydrated night on the town. (Maybe Italian and alcohol hadn't been the best mix for anything other than a killer hangover for both of them.) By the Underground it only took about ten minutes to get there, which wasn't too bad by Dan's social standards.

"We're going to Dennys first though, right?" Troye nodded. "Yeah. Shouldn't take too long." The group stopped at a crosswalk, mixing in with the big crowd already there and watching the plethora of cars zoom by. The light flashed blue and they started to move again, Dan getting jostled out from in-between the group and pushed back. As soon as he realised he wasn't with the others anymore, his brain instantly went into panic mode, causing him to stumble to the side. Dan bumped into someone and he muttered an apology before briskly walking away, finding a bench and promptly collapsing onto it. He kept his hands in his pockets and kept his eyes on the ground, trying to control his breathing.  _It's ok, it's ok, just text Troye. He'll find you._

Shakily Dan took out his phone, unlocking it and going to his messenger app. Nothing had changed, it seemed like they thought he was still with them.  _Or they don't care,_ Dan's anxious brain butted in unnecessarily. Dan dismissed those thoughts, fingers hovering over the text box.  _What could I say that wouldn't make me sound like a complete idiot?_ He bit his lip, internally debating with himself. Just as he was starting to draft a text someone came and sat right next to him on the bench, much too close for Dan's comfort. He tried not to look up from his phone but they moved closer and tapped his shoulder.  _Oh my god, what does this creep want?_ The anxiety in his stomach swirled, arching higher as he looked up.  _Oh._

It was Phil.

Dan nearly gasped in relief and deleted the few words he'd so far managed to type. "Oh thank god," he breathed. "I'm so sorry I got lost, I didn't mean to, I just got pushed out or something, and I'm not a fighter, so-well, I guess I could be, if I had enough confidence-but you're here now so that's-do the others know where I am?" He was stumbling over his sentences, shakily with relief. Phil stared at him, blue eyes roaming his face. "Non. They're not very far ahead, though. J'ai leur dit d'attendre." He let a small smile show on his face as he stood up and held out a hand. Dan took it and tried to ignore the fact that- _Oh, shut up already._ They started to walk back the way Dan came. "Let's go get your aprons." Dan smiled back. "Oui," he said quietly. Even if Phil wasn't facing him he could practically see the smile grow bigger on his face.  _It's a start._

He let Phil lead him through the streets and much to Dan's surprise they found the others rather quickly. Ryan and Troye both looked extremely tense until they came into view and Dan waved, the looks of worry instantly dissipating to be replaced with guilt and happiness and Troye leapt up to wrap him in a hug. "Oh god Dan, I'm so sorry. We didn't know you were missing until Phil said something and told us to stay put." He put his hands on his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. "Stay with us. Don't go running off again."

The easy smile on Troye's face made it clear that he was glad Dan was back and the last line was meant to be taken as a joke, but Dan felt a stab of irritation.  _I'm not a dog. No need to keep me on a leash._ He shook the thoughts away, focusing on the fact that he was back with his friends and that his hand was still protectively in Phil's. They started to walk again and when his hand stayed Dan gently tugged his back, slipping it in his pocket but staying close.

They made small talk until they got there, Ryan spotting the grey store on the corner. When they entered Dan scanned the shop, feeling less tense when it was only them and the cashier. Troye beelined for the front counter while the others milled around. Ryan took out his phone, leaning against an empty wall. Dan followed Phil, unsure of where to go. "Is this the only place where you get your bakery outfits from?" Dan nodded. "Yeah. Troye's been thinking about getting something more formal, but I'm not sure where he's at with that."

"C'est super." His mouth quirked into a half smile. "So, where are we going to eat? Ryan and Troye seemed pretty excited and set on where we're going." Dan adjusted the cuffs on his hoodie. "Piccola. It's an Italian restaurant in the Soho district. Small, but worth it."

Dan heard Troye thank the cashier and walk over to where they were standing. "He said they'll have them ready to pick up in a few days. I got three." Dan called Ryan over as they consulted the best time to head to the station. "Five minutes, then. We won't have to wait around if we leave now." The group headed out, Troye walking in front with Phil, Dan ending up with Ryan. "Do you have any new video ideas? You said something about music recommendations." Ryan looked excited. "Oh yeah! When your favourite kpop artists come out with new music you just  _have_ to say something. So fanboying about it to the internet is a way to do that."

"Well, you're not wrong."

A few minutes later they reached the entrance of the station, descending down a flight of stairs into the busy area below. A voice called out the trains leaving and arriving, the buzz of the crowd just a little quieter. After getting in with their Oyster cards Troye led them to the correct platform, boarding the train a few moments before it pulled out of the station. It was fairly crowded in the compartment, enough to set Dan on edge. He kept a firm grip on the pole he was next to, eyes flicking around.

"You good?" Dan looked over at Troye. "Yeah." He cast his eyes back down, trying to make himself as insignificant as possible.  _Fucking anxiety. I'm not a science experiment gone wrong._

Angry at himself and the people around him he didn't say anything the rest of the ride, getting off and following them in silence. This station was busier than the last, the nightlife really starting to get going. It was  _7:15_ and the sun was dipping low on the horizon, all the lights of the buildings starting to come to life. Something about the busyness and flashy feel of distracts like this really set him at ease, which was a surprise to even him. He felt like he could blend in, stay back and enjoy himself, knowing that others were only focused on themselves, their own wants and needs or their friends.

_I truly wish I could see that in every situation._

Dan followed the two men in front of him, watching as they talked and joked easily.  _Where is Phil?_ He looked around, not seeing any sign of a tall, pale-skinned man with square-ish glasses.  _Where did he go? Maybe I can text him. Weird that he just left, though. Maybe he had somewhere else to be._ Dan frowned but pulled out his phone, running a little to catch up with the others.

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): where did you go?**

It took him a few seconds to respond and he glanced up to make sure he was still following his friends.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): I'll be back in a few moments, don't worry**

He sent back a smiley emoji and put his phone back in his pocket, looking up to discover that they'd entered into the main area of Soho, with all the popular huge shops, restaurants and bars. People swarmed all around and Dan wondered what Phil could be doing and how he'd be able to find them again.  _There's lots of people._ The further they walked the less busy it got and the more Dan started to worry. He was considering telling Troye and Ryan but before he could he felt someone approach him from behind. Dan's head whipped around to see Phil, breathless and hair messy and wild.

"Jesus Phil, you startled me!" Phil laughed and tried to catch his breath. "Sorry I was gone for so long. Line was longer than I expected." Dan looked down to see two large cups in his hands. "I got you some cider. You looked...tired on the train." He handed one to Dan, cheeks tinted slightly pink.  _Oh. He must be cold._ "Did you get one for yourself, too? You look cold. Your cheeks are pink." Phil blinked, caught off guard. "Oh?" Dan nodded. "Oui. Just cold." He took a sip from the cup, wincing slightly as it hit his tongue.

"Hey! You guys!" Dan looked up to see Troye waving them over. "Why were you that far behind us?" He asked when they caught up. "Um. No reason?" Dan looked genuinely confused and Phil looked flustered. "Got some cider." He held his cup up as proof. Dan didn't miss the way he smirked and the mischievous eyes as he responded. "Alright. Well, the restaurant is just over here." They started to walk again, having to doge less and less people. Dan was glad.

The small brick building came into view, tucked into a corner. Lights mounted on the front illuminated the fancy cursive script, framed nicely by two tall, well-trimmed bushes. The warm atmosphere surrounded him when he entered and he tapped his fingers on the cup.  _Maybe Antonio is here._

"Troye! Daniel! Welcome back!"

 _Ah, there he is._ He turned towards the voice, beaming as a man with messy brown hair rounded the corner. He had flour on his dark maroon apron, a sign that he'd probably recently made a fresh batch of pizza dough. "Hi, Antonio!" He reached forward and hugged his friend around the cup in his hands. He hugged Troye after, green eyes sparkling. Ryan introduced himself, shaking hands with him, laughing when Antonio clapped him on the back. He then turned to Phil, questioning gaze taking him in. "Who is this? Dan, is he your boyfriend?"

Dan stiffened, cheeks flushing. "W-What, no! No, he's not. Just a... friend." Troye huffed and Ryan giggled behind the hand that he'd covered his mouth with. Phil stuck his hand out, looking much more put together than Dan. "I'm Philip Lester." Antonio took the hand, shaking it firmly. "As in...luustr?" Phil smiled tightly. "Yep." A look of astonishment crossed his features. "Wow. Amazing. He talks about you a lot, you know," Antonio said, pointing a finger at Dan. He nearly squeaked in betrayal, hiding his face behind the half-empty cup of cider. Troye rolled his eyes, following Antonio as he led them to 'their table' near the back. Troye and Ryan sat together on one side, leaving Phil to sit next to Dan.

Antonio, seemingly oblivious to the predicament he'd put Dan in, asked for drink orders. Dan went ahead and ordered his food too; he and Troye came here so often and ordered the same thing every time that Antonio had just stopped asking them what they wanted. He left to go get their drinks, letting Phil and Ryan scan the menus. "What are you getting?" Dan asked Phil, taking a sip of his cider. Phil shrugged. "Je ne sais pas. Maybe just a soup and salad." Dan hummed. "Well, I recommend the Chicken Pancetta. Or the spaghetti. Or the mini pizzas. Did you see the mini pizzas?" He pointed at them on the menu, laughing quietly as he launched into a story. "Troye nearly died when he saw them for the first time. He said they were the cutest things he'd ever seen."

"Hey!" Troye spouted indignantly. "Stop telling people that story. It's not very flattering." Dan leaned forwards. "I don't care if it's flattering or not. It's fucking cute. Who almost cries at small pizzas?" Ryan snorted, butting in. "Apparently you, mate." Troye was aghast, mouth open in surprise. "You guys are  _horrible._ " Dan muttered something under his breath. "What was that, Dan?" He looked up, confident. " _'Orrible,_ " He mimicked. Troye sighed heavily in defeat, shaking his head in regret. "Why do I even speak?"

"Well, how are you supposed to work at the bakery if you won't talk?" Troye didn't answer, ignoring him and focusing on Antonio when he approached the table with their drinks. He set them all down and took out his pen and notepad, letting Ryan and Phil order. They stacked their menus to the side and started talking, half of the conversation being Ryan ranting on and on about something he'd seen on Tumblr. Dan's cider cup was now empty and he eyed the trashcan, wanting to get up and throw it away but not wanting to ask Phil to get up and move for something as small as that. Instead he rested his head on the top, fingertips tapping out a soft rhythm.

Their food came rather quickly, Dan putting all his attention at the heaped pile of spaghetti on his plate, topped with tomato sauce and various vegetables, just the way he liked it. He dug in gratefully, holding back a noise as he ate.  _Nearly forgot there are other people here._ Everyone else looked occupied with their plates, actual talking stopping so they could enjoy their food. "Antonio always knows how to do it right, yeah?" Dan remarked, getting a nod from Troye in response.

Phil had a small salad, small bowl of soup and two breadsticks. "What soup is that?" He took a moment to respond. "Tomato basil."

"Sounds good."

From that point on there was little to no talk, each enjoying their dishes. No one budged from the booth except for Phil, who got up to use the restroom. When he came back Dan was nearly finished with his spaghetti, Ryan and Troye both having finished a little bit before. Phil sat back down silently, getting out his phone. "Are you done?" Dan asked after a few minutes. He'd only ate a little more than half. "Yeah." Dan went back to his own plate, letting Troye and Phil argue over who would pay the bill.

Dan rolled his eyes affectionately.  _Idiots._

-

They were back at the bakery, Ryan and Phil saying goodbye as they prepared to leave. "Bye, Dan! I'll see you soon." Dan gave Ryan a big hug, wishing him a safe trip home. Ryan went over to Troye, leaving Dan with Phil. "Thank you for the cider. It helped." He smiled, happy when Phil returned the smile. "I'm glad you did, because that was  _expensive_!" Dan laughed. "Really?" Phil nodded. "Way more expensive then street cider should be. But it was good, so it was worth it."

"Well. I'll see you tomorrow then, yeah?" Phil cocked his head. "Maybe not. They want me back in the studio and the agency for... stuff for December 7th. And for something else exciting." He winked (actually winked) and Dan didn't know what to do with that other than blush stupidly. "O-Ok. After the 7th, then?"  _Why am I so eager?_ "Oui. Probably. Or not, they might want me to do some extra things then for the mini album." Dan shoved back the disappointed thoughts to the back of his head and nodded. "Ok." They stood there and Dan could practically see the wheezing laughter Troye was probably trying so hard to keep quiet. "Goodbye, then. See you later. Travel safe." Phil started to gather his things. "Merci. Bonne nuit, Daniel." He bid Troye goodbye and left, Dan waving after him. He closed his eyes and stood, the quiet atmosphere shattered by Troye's stuttered laughter. Dan held up a finger, shutting Troye up before he could full-on laugh.

"You say one word, you are a dead man."

Troye ignored him and cracked up, leaving Dan shaking his head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aHa I was in the middle of writing this when I copied+pasted it so I was really confused when my word doc was 19 pages long at 11k+ words like I know I don't write that much lmao
> 
> I put this into a word counter and apparently 8% I said the word Dan. good to know
> 
> french in this chapter:  
> \- salut: informal (?) hello (less formal than bonjour)  
> \- tu vas bien? quel as-tu fait: are you ok? what did you do?  
> \- j'ai leur dit d'attendre: i told them to wait  
> \- c'est super: that's great  
> \- merci. bonne nuit: thank you. goodnight


	10. ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: january 30: happy birthday Phil! hope you have a good day :)
> 
> edit: january 31: watched shane's new series (pt 1) and frickin loved it omg what a queen we stan

"Troye," Dan asked as he dumped a few cups of flour into the mixing bowl- "Why don't we buy a new tree?"

"What's wrong with the one we've got?" He sounded vaguely annoyed.  _He wants a reason? Oh, I can give him a reason._

"For starters, it's  _old._ We've had it for....what, five years? Even before the bakery, in the flat before that. It's all shaggy and ragged and those needles keep falling off and it takes weeks, if not months to clean them all up." Troye tried to interrupt but Dan cut him off. "And it's very tall." Troye turned around, indignantly shoving him with his shoulder. "Tall? You're one to talk! You're...almost ten feet tall!"

"Ten? I am six foot three."

"I was joking, idiot. That's at least five inches taller than me though, why are you complaining?" Dan shuddered, mind going back to 2016. "Remember last year, when I  _fell_ into the tree? That was awful." Troye snickered. "Oh. That was great." Dan shoved him back. "No. It was not. It took forever to get all the little needles out. My hair was full of them for weeks."

"That sounds like it was fun. It was a good laugh though."

Dan shrugged. "Just adding to my point. It's practically a skeleton now. A naked, plastic amalgamation." Troye wrinkled his nose at the weird word. "You're weird."

"I'm just telling the truth." He took eggs from the pile they had in a bowl and cracked two, letting them combine with everything else. Silence reigned for a minute before Troye sighed in defeat and surrendered. "Fine." Dan shouted and slapped his arm, ignoring his attempts to stop him. "Go take down the chairs." Dan bounded out, practically giggling as he left. "Sure thing!"

The street outside was already busy, cars stopping and going on the road like clockwork. The early morning sun streamed into the windows, making Dan squint his eyes. He hummed as he worked, soon finishing and going back to grab the keys and his apron. Dan unlocked the door and was about to step back when his eyes caught a small lump by the front door.  _What is that?_

He propped the door open with his foot and got a better look at it, mouth forming a little  _O_ when he picked it up.

It was a little orange chrysanthemum, still in its plastic pot.  _Who is this from? Did someone drop it off or leave it here?_  His thoughts were interrupted when Troye yelled at him. "Dan! You're letting the cold air in! What's taking so long?" He swiftly closed the door, apron flaring out as he turned around. Dan held out the plant. "It was outside." Troye arched his eyebrows, looking skeptical. "Are you sure you didn't just steal someone's plant?"

"Who would purposely leave a flower right in front of a bakery? Seems stupid," Dan reasoned. Troye shrugged and went back into the kitchen, leaving Dan to decide where he'd want to put it. After some speculation (not much, honestly) he settled on putting it on the counter next to the register.  _A little splash of colour._

Dan positioned himself at the register and waited for the customers to start coming in.

-

Today was a slow day, that's for sure.  _I don't think I'd ever had this much free time during the job. Lunch hour still hasn't passed though._

Dan leaned against the counter, head in his hands and sighed. It was kind of boring. He looked at the chrysanthemum again.  _They look so lonely._ The single orange flower seemed to agree with him and Dan mindlessly turned the pot around again.  _Where did you come from? Do you have a name?_  He thought, not coming up with a good one.  _Maybe later._

-

He was in the kitchen now, scrolling through Twitter. The last batch of cherry cluster cookies were in the oven, the bowl of red filling sitting on the counter. The work day was nearly over and the bakery was packed, uncommon for a normal day like this. With all the people outside he shouldn't be on his phone (probably checking if Troye needed any help) but here he was, looking through Phil's Twitter, wondering what he was doing.  _He said he was back in the studio, right?_

The incessant beeping of the oven's timer made him put down his phone and take cookies out, letting them cool for a minute before quickly spooning the filling into the indents and taking the tray out into the busy front area. The noise that was dull behind doors swelled as he walked out, though none of it was aimed at him. Ignoring it was easy, especially if it was people who didn't know him, or didn't care about his 'celebrity' status on the internet.

But if half of those people were fans who wouldn't stop nagging him, ignoring it was much harder.

As soon as he walked out at least two people walked up to the counter, one staring at him quietly and the other starting to question him eagerly. He tried to block them out, instead putting the cookies in the display and quickly. As he disappeared back into the kitchen he heard Troye say, "If you want to ask him a question you can after we close, not during work hours." Dan internally groaned and let his head hit the door.  _Was that payback for earlier?_ He sighed and dragged his feet over to the oven, putting the cookie sheet down and picking up his phone. Phil's Twitter page was still open and he looked at the latest tweet for a few more seconds before clicking out of the app. A small curl of jealousy sparked in his stomach.  _He lives the good life, doesn't he? Everything's easy for him._ Dan shoved the thoughts out of his head before he could go any further, instead busying himself with flipping through a recipe book.  _Of course he does, he's an internationally popular singer. That's what people like him do. He's only staying until February. He'll be gone then, onto bigger and better things. You're just an insignificant blip in his fast life. Get over it._

He'd found the recipe he'd been looking for, now staring at it as he got lost in his thoughts once again.  _Just get over it._

_-_

Dan paced back and forth on the tiles, dirty after a day’s work. He was sure the two people from earlier were still out there, for some goddamn reason.  _What the fuck do they want and why are they so persistent? If this is about Phil, I swear to god-_  "Dan." Troye knocked on the door and stuck his head in. "They...still want to ask you a few questions. About-" Dan cut him off, talking quickly. "About what, Phil and why he's been coming here?" He stopped abruptly, staring at his friend. "N-No."  _Good fucking job jumping to conclusions there Dan._ "Well, maybe. Just come and talk to them so we can close up." He gave Dan a timid smile and backed away, leaving Dan backed into a metaphorical corner. He  _knew_ he had to go talk to them sometime today; but he thought if he stopped thinking about it  _maybe_ they might. But they didn't, because that's not how the real world works.  _Here goes nothing, I guess._

Three people were in the bakery when he came out, two of them sitting lax in the chairs and pillows in the corner, on their phones and whispering to each other. Dan inhaled and put on the most optimistic tone he could muster at the moment. "Did you need to ask me a question?" Both girls scrambled over immediately and Dan backed up a little. "Well, we know we're not supposed to bother you when you're working, but..."  _Damn right._ "We just wanted to know if you were doing a live show anytime soon." His face nearly fell into exasperation and he caught himself just in time.  _That's all you wanted to know?! You could've asked me over Twitter or something._ "...But we wanted to know about, ah, Philip. You know, the guy that's been around here a few times? Luustr?"

Dan felt his heart rate spike when they said his name. He could feel himself get defensive, folding his arms and staring down at them. "What about him?" They looked at each other. "Well, we wanted to know if he'd be coming back here anytime soon. We're really big fans and he seems to come here often. Do you know when he'll be here?"  _I can't believe it._ "No. I don't know when he'll be back, and I cannot ask him. He's busy today." Instantly he regretted it, snapping his mouth shut.  _Now they're gonna know I've done more than guest-star in his Instagram photos and sell him muffins._

They only raised their eyebrows, not pushing the topic. Unable to help himself, Dan blurted out one last sentence. "I can...tell him whenever he comes back. That you want to meet him."  _I don't even know if he's okay with that. And_ you're _the one who's got the 'consent is important' motto._ The pair looked elated, thanking him feverishly. "Oh my gosh! Thank you so much! This means a lot to us." The one speaking glanced at her friend, who nodded. "We've been waiting for a long time to meet him." Dan relaxed when the topic moved to photos.  _I can do photos._ The brunette gave him her phone and he crouched down, smiling and snapping the photo. "Thank you again, Dan. It means a lot. We're sorry for bothering you." Now that things had been cleared up, it wasn't as bad as Dan had been expecting. He smiled, waving them goodbye. "It's ok. Try not to do it again though." The bell on the door chimed and they were gone, silence replacing the chatter that had filled the bakery only fifteen minutes ago. Dan stood for a minute, letting himself calm down and figure out he was going to explain to Phil what he'd just promised to those girls.  _Maybe that wasn't the best idea?_

"Hey, Dan. Can you help me clean this place up?"  _Thank god for Troye._

_-_

Troye flung the rag into the sink and turned to Dan, an over-excited expression on his face. "Are you ready? Are you ready?" Dan huffed and rolled his eyes but felt his mood raise up. "Sure." Troye pumped a fist into the air and nearly ran upstairs, yelling for Dan to hurry up. He followed, picking his steps carefully through the Christmas bomb that was the living room floor. He found Troye in his flower-bomb of a room, opening the closet doors. "Can you get it please?"

"Sure." Dan reached up, nudging the battered box down from the white wire shelf where it was sitting. It fell but he caught it, dragging it through the mess on the floor and next to their table, dropping it and sitting next to it. "Will you get the scissors?" Troye nodded and dug through their junk drawer, handing him the scissors and joining Dan on the floor. "We've put this off for too long. Open it."

"It's been, what, two or three days? Calm down."  Dan slid the blades through the tape, letting Troye finish opening the box while he stood and sifted through the mess on the floor, stacking what they needed on the table and brushing everything else to the side. "Take it out, then." Troye snorted. "Oh, who's the impatient one now?" Dan nudged him with his foot. "Still not me. It's all you, Christmas bitch."

"Christmas bitch. I like that. Change my bio, right now." Dan snickered and reached down to help him haul parts of the tree out, finally getting it laid out in the cleared space. "This is the part I hate." Troye looked confused. "I know you hate the tree, but why specifically this part? I thought it was all the little plastic needles that got to you."

"Well, yes," Dan considered. "But there's like, four parts to this. And they're all connected by that stupid strand of lights." He pointed at the offending object. "It's extremely annoying." Troye ran a hand through his hair, shooing his complaints away. "You say the same thing every year, mate. Just go turn on some Christmas music or something. I can get started on this." Dan trailed away, muttering to himself. He grabbed his phone and scrolled to his Christmas playlist, setting it on the coffee table and clicked play,  _White Christmas_ coming through at full volume. He joined Troye, picking up two parts of the tree and backing up, awkwardly making their way around the couch and into the far corner, Dan completely pressed up wall when Troye finally set the base down. He stacked the top two parts on top of Troye's and had to stretch to place the final piece in place.

"There! All done." He looked proud for a moment before swiping at his clothes and aggressively shaking his head. "I've even got the accessories." Troye laughed and picked out the visible ones,  the lyrics of  _White Christmas_ still going in the background. "Just leave it. We can fix it later." Dan shrugged and wandered over to the table, piled high with tinsel, extra lights and other baubles.  "What do you want to put on here? Everything?" Troye joined him. "Everything. Obviously." Dan stuck his hands in the pile and picked up half, dumping it into Troye's arms. "Here. Do what you want, then." His friend tottered away, depositing it next to the wall and sliding down to start untangling the clutter. Dan scraped everything that was left on the tabletop into his grasp, sitting back on the couch and going through his portion.

For a while, everything was silent, save for the Christmas songs and occasional ad. Last time he checked, Troye looked to be almost done with his work.  _Maybe we can start putting things on soon._ The sudden  _ding_ of an incoming text temporarily muting the music. "Check it," Troye said without looking up from the tinsel he was working on. Dan reached over and paused the music, checking the text.  _Oh! It's from Phil._ He leaned back and read the text.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): hi Dan! I was wondering; will you be able to cater again on the 7th?**

"Troye?" He paused. "Will we be able to cater on the seventh?"

"The seventh? That's a...Friday, correct?" His eyes flicked up and Dan nodded. "I suppose so. Who for?" He set down the finished tinsel. "Phil again. I presume for his album." Troye balanced his arm on his knee and tilted his head, nodding. "Yeah. We can do that. Just ask him for the details again."

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): we can do it! Troye wants the specifics again though**

**Philip Lester (@luustr): of course! it's going to be a bit bigger this time, but same time and the same things from last time are ok. (but preferably Christmas-themed stuff)**

Dan confirmed the job, said goodbye and put the music back on, going back to his pile of stuff. He was nearly done. Troye looked to be done now so Dan told him to start putting things on. "I'll join you in a minute," He said, wincing as something poked his finger. Troye got up and took a string with him, expertly wrapping the lights around the tree. Dan joined him, stringing up his own strands of lights and tinsel. Soon they had the entire tree wrapped in a respectable amount, Troye looked pretty happy. "You want to do the ornaments now?"

"Why not. They're on the table, right?" He wandered over to the small boxes that were on the other side of the table. "Yeah. Currently, everything is on the table. Just get the top two or three. The bottom ones are...I actually have no idea." Troye brought them over one-by-one, stacking them into a neat tower. He opened the first one, shiny and solid-colour ornaments shining out at them. "Do we want a colour scheme this year? Or anything and everything?"

"Anything and everything, all the way. We've done colour schemes for too long." Troye grinned. "So no more sorting through  _each and every_ little thing?" Dan grinned back. "Nope. Go wild." Troye pumped his fist in victory, opening a bag and checking them before hanging them one by one, all over the tree. Dan joined him with his own bag and it didn't take them long to empty more than one onto the tree.  _Now the only thing left is the star._

"Troye, where's the star?"

He looked up from his phone. "In the bottom box, I believe. Wrapped in brown paper." Dan checked and found it, dropping the wrapping paper back in the box and closing the lid. "Ready?" Troye nodded. Dan reached up and delicately balanced the gold star on the top of the tree, stepping back and admiring their work. The tree was full of so many different colours, all mixing and  meeting in the right way. "I think we did pretty good, T-" Something hit the back of his head and fell to the floor, cutting him off. He spun around. "Hey! What was that for?" Troye didn't look up from his phone. "You forgot the tree skirt."

"Why don't you do it then, if you care so much?" He sputtered in disbelief. Dan reached down to pick the offending item up, shaking it violently. "Cause I'm tired." He threw his head back, closed his eyes and dropped his phone for effect. "Oh, come on. It's only six. You're fine. If you're so tired, then why don't you go to bed? I can eat by myself." Troye instantly perked up again, launching himself off the couch and running into the kitchen. "I'll make something. You just go do your live show." Dan laughed but left him alone, quitting the music and taking a picture of the tree and his thumbs-up, putting it in a story and pocketing his phone.

Dan popped in the kitchen, checking on Troye, who was going through the fridge. "I'll go do my live show, then. We can clean up after dinner." Troye nodded and he left, closing his door and collapsing onto his bed, laying still for a minute before rolling over and grabbing his laptop. He logged in and typed the URL in, running his hands through his hair one last time.  _I hope I look presentable._ He took a deep breath and started the live show, watching attentively as people started to appear and greet him. "Hi guys!" He waved at the laptop's camera, getting a bunch of  _hello_ 's in response. "How is everyone today? Doing well?" All different kinds of responses appeared and Dan took the time to tweet out his live show, the number jumping up a few seconds after he did.

Dan focused back on the screen, reading the comments as they constantly moved. "I'm feeling pretty good myself. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened today, thankfully." He sniffed. "We finished decorating for Christmas, finally. Though, Troye is finally saying yes to getting rid of that dusty, piece of shit tree we have right now. Yeah, the one I've been complaining about. When I toss it out back I might cry." The chat continued to roll, changing subjects as he spoke. "He's still attached to it somehow, I don't know why?" He held out his hand in a confused manner. "It's old. And falling apart. Who would want it? Troye, I guess." A knock at the door stopped him. "What?"

"Stop trash-talking the tree, asshole. She's valid." They sounded harsh but Dan knew they had no bite to them. "Don't you have a job to be doing?" He could imagine Troye flipping him off as the footsteps faded. Dan smiled and turned back to the chat, his defenses starting to go up as he read. 

_Philip! How's Philip? Where's luustr? Have you talked to luustr this week? Do you know Philip? Does he like you? #phan How's the bakery been?_

Dan grabbed onto the last one, hastily launching into the topic. "The bakery's been well! Hasn't been too harsh for us, we can keep up with it. The closer we get to Christmas, the more themed items you'll see. They'll be good, trust me." The longer he talked about the bakery or anything else, the more Phil's name started to appear. All he could see was  _Philip, Philip tell us about Philip!_

 _Fine,_ He thought.  _I'll talk. I should've expected this. They're not stupid, they can catch onto the smallest of hints._ "Phil-Philip is fine. He said he was busy today so I'm not sure where he is or what he's doing." The chat seemed more contented now but considering that they were talking with a worldwide popular artist they weren't going to be satisfied anytime soon. "He's a very nice person, he likes the muffins and he's funny and likes to speak in french when he knows I can't understand him." He smirked.  _I probably shouldn't have said that. Oh well._

The comments were going even faster, people overanalysing the moment or typing their ship name in.  _It's much too early for that, good god. For all I know, he's as straight as a rainbow on steroids._ Dan stopped that train of thought, focusing back on the chat and alternating between talking about Phil and other topics, like gender equality and roles(a popular one) or things that ticked him off. He read comments from the fans, answering questions, asking questions and occasionally yelling at Troye. 

"No, I don't think I've ever done that before. Should I try it? Link me the recipe or something, it sounds interesting." Suddenly Dan's phone buzzed on the sheets next to him and he picked it up, curious. He smiled instantly when he saw the name.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): I'm funny?**

Dan froze, peering at his screen.

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): what do you mean?**

**Philip Lester (@luustr): your live show**

Dan coughed, feeling his cheeks heat up.

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): you're watching??**

**Philip Lester (@luustr): of course :)**

Dan threw his phone to the opposite side of the bed, suddenly focusing back in at the laptop camera that was currently pointed at his face. People were asking him what was wrong, who was texting him, who it was.  _Oh my god, I can practically hear him laughing._ "Nothing. Just...nothing." Of course, the chat wasn't buying it, but he didn't care.  _Why is he watching? This is crazy._ "Um, what was I talking about?" His phone started to buzz but he forced himself to ignore it, instead focusing his attention on the chat. "Ah. Yes. Someone send me the recipe." His phone was still buzzing, to the point where he couldn't ignore it anymore. He reached over and snatched it, angrily swiping to see who was texting him.

"Troye! You don't have to text me that you're done!" Troye laughed, sending him a winky face. Dan muttered under his breath, focusing back on his phone.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): you were talking about a recipe**

**Philip Lester (@luustr): can I custom order a muffin?**

**Philip Lester (@luustr): stop ignoring me**

**Philip Lester (@luustr): you'll see me tomorrow don't worry**

"Dear god," Dan muttered under his breath. He typed back a response, dropping his phone again and zeroing in on the chat. There was still a bunch of people who were still focused on him and Phil, though a good portion of his fanbase was mature enough to drop it when he said to. He started to rant to the laptop, some obscure topic that was probably important to only him. His phone buzzed again and without looking at the screen he shoved it off the bed, not flinching when it hit the rug with a clatter. "I guess I'd better leave before Troye kicks the door down and drags me out." Dan smirked. "I'll see you next time. For those of you worrying about the yearly Christmas baking video, don't worry. It'll be up around the  _15_ th." He waved to the camera, hovering his mouse over the end button. "Bye, everyone! Bye!" He winked and ended the live stream, sighing in relief.  _That wasn't as bad as I had originally thought. Good job, Dan._

He sat there for a few more minutes, catching his breath and thinking everything over.  _Phil was watching the_ _stream. Why? Did he finish his work? Was he just bored?_ He mulled it over before dragging himself out of bed when Troye yelled. "Dan, you'd better get your ass out here before I come in there and drag you out!"

"Fine!" He yelled back, putting his laptop to the side and leaving his phone on the floor, exiting his room and joining Troye at the dining table. He'd made his specialty, pasta with mixed vegetables and Pillsbury biscuits. Dan sat across from Troye, mouth watering as he took a biscuit. "My favourite," he groaned as he bit in. Troye laughed and put a serving of the pasta on their plates. "I knew you'd like it. Live show go well?" Dan nodded. "Great. Can I tell you more later? I'm hungry."

"Sure."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies if this chapter isn't as long, I wasn't super motivated to write this week but I am planning the story out so I might have a set number of chapters soon! I promise we'll be picking up speed in a little bit :')
> 
> no French in this chapter!
> 
> (after reading this I feel like dan and troye eat pasta religiously lol)


	11. eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit: february 5: i woke up to 500 hits and 45 kudos! thank you all so much! :))
> 
> bit of a repeat chapter? sorry about that but i hope you still like it  
> (edit: ok writing this i've added a few embellishments so it won't be as copycat as it first seemed)

_Phil's going to take over the internet today._

That was Dan's first thought as he opened his eyes to the new day.  _December seventh._

A mini-album shouldn't matter that much,  _unless_ it was a mini-album by Dan's favourite musical artist. And friend, apparently.  _When did things take a turn for the better?_

He laid there, letting himself wake up and think. Dan watched the sunlight fall through the gauzy curtains and pool on the foot of the bed, wiggling his toes under the sheets.  _Today will be a good day, I suppose._

A knock at the door shook him awake. "Dan? You up?"

"I am now," He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. "I'll be out in a minute." Ever the responsible one, Troye left him with the fact that "Today is going to be a busy day, better get started early."  _As if every day isn't busy._ He stayed still for a minute more before sitting up and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, stretching and taking his phone from where it rested on the nightstand.

_No new notifications._

Somehow disappointed, he set it back down, finally getting up and moving about, throwing on a fresh outfit and patting his curls. He walked out into the kitchen, spotting Troye at the kitchen table, surrounded by three boxes of cereal and an empty bowl. "Cereals? What's the special occasion?" He asked his friend as he sat down. Troye shrugged, stirring the half-empty bowl. "There is none. I just felt lazy." Dan laughed, sitting across from him and sliding the extra bowl in front of him. He picked the box of Shreddies and poured some in, not even bothering with milk or a spoon as he popped a few pieces in his mouth.

"So, what's the plan?"

"Work as normal, make things for Philip after. Like last time."

 _Oh, ok. So nothing that we haven't done before._ "What are we planning to make though? Same things as last time, or something a little more festive?" He winked and Troye rolled his eyes. "Festive, of course! If we didn't make at least one green-and-red cookie we'd be committing a crime." Dan tossed a few more back into his mouth. "So, does that mean we can go through the special Christmas books today?" Troye nodded, a happy glint in his eye. "At break." 

Dan smiled, finishing his bowl in record time and quickly cleared the rest of the table, hastily brushing his teeth and nearly running down the stairs, surprised at this burst of energy.  _Food does wonders, doesn't it?_  The kitchen was still clean from last night, not yet touched by the day's work just yet. He flicked on the lights, took an apron and a set of keys, walking out into the well-lit seating area. He hummed to himself, swinging the keys on his finger.  _Another day, another dollar._ With a clean  _click_ he opened the door and crouched down, checking the ground outside to see if there was any more mystery plants sitting there. A small cloud of disappoint sat in his stomach when nothing was there.  _Aw._

Dan stood up, brushing his hands off and going back inside, listening for the bell. When it didn't ring like it usually did, he turned around, confused.  _Is it gone? Not working?_ It didn't take him long to register that the answer to his questions was standing in front of him.

"Oh! Phil! H-hello."

This time he was wearing a navy blue jumper with black skinny jeans, hair styled into a careful quiff.  _He clearly spends more time on his morning routine._ Phil smiled politely and stayed where he was, watching Dan (who wasn't moving either). Dan shook himself into motion, mouth moving on its own. "What are you doing here?"  _Oh great, now I sound rude._ Luckily, Phil didn't take offense, just laughed. "My manager said I could have the day off today, since I've done all the work on my part. Actually, I have the rest of this month off, save for a few days where I might have to go in. The hardest part is finally over." The smile on his face quickly disappeared when he yawned. "It's been tiring."

_I can tell._

"Well, that's...great! I'm glad you've gotten it all done." Dan exclaimed sincerely. "Go sit down. I can help you in a minute, I just have to go get Troye." He motioned to the kitchen, running off when Phil nodded and slouched in a booth. Dan went back up to the flat, eyes roaming around the living space.  _Where is he?_

"Troye! I've opened up!" When Dan didn't get an answer he peeked into the kitchen, then into his room.  _Maybe he's in his own room? Sometimes he does like to take his time getting ready._ His door was closed, so Dan knocked. "Hey! Are you ok?" When only silence answered him he started to get a little worried. "Can I come in?"

This time he did get an answer, but it wasn't one he was expecting. "No! Stay out there!" He sounded a bit woozy. "Um. Alright. Are you doing ok? You sound a bit-"

"I'm fine!" Troye cut him off. "I'm just...just a bit nauseous."  _What?_ "Then you are most definitely  _not_ fine! I'm coming in." He started to twist the doorknob, ignoring Troye's pleas for him to not. "Just stay out there, Dan, I'll be-" This time he stopped abruptly, which caused worry to spike dramatically in Dan, so he forwent the slow, cautious rate he'd been holding and nearly threw the door open, only coming to face an empty room with no Troye.

It didn't take him long to figure out where he was, the closed bathroom door and terrible retching sounds coming from behind it. "Goddamit Troye, what do you mean 'you're fine'? You are clearly not fine!" Troye answered back with a weak "I know" before emptying his stomach again. Dan let him finish and come out on his own time, though when he did he was still caught off guard. He looked haggard and worn-out, despite being awake for the past few hours.

"I must've caught something in the past few days," he said as he nearly fell into Dan. "I'm sorry." Dan gripped his sick friend's arms, guiding him back to his bed, sitting him down. He crouched in front of him, sighing. "You're not working today. I don't want you getting anyone else sick or getting anything in the muffins and cookies." Troye closed his eyes, looking downright miserable. "But who else is going to help you? None of our friends we know can really bake, or if they can they can't bake the Blue Moon recipes as quickly as we need them made." Dan shook his head, coming out from his crouch and gently easing Troye onto his back. "Hey. Don't worry about anything, just focus on getting better and not throwing up again, ok?"

"Fine." Troye rolled onto his side, eyes tracking Dan as he moved about, putting a glass of water on his nightstand and a bucket next to the bed, in case he did get sick. "I'll call Olive and Ari and see if they can come over. You just get some rest."

"But I'm not tried," Troye whined pathetically. Dan stopped his wild walk around the room to look at him. "At least just stay still," he tried to reason. "You'll get better faster."

"Will I? That's good." He flipped over onto his back, tapping his fingers on his chest. "Maybe I can start working again. I already hate laying here." Dan let out a breathy laugh at Troye's restless spirit. "Just try to get better. Don't think about the bakery." Dan brushed the light brown waves away from his forehead, feeling gently for a fever. "If you start feeling worse, tell me and I'll go with you to a doctor. Ok?" Troye muttered a response, rolling back over onto his side, back facing Dan. He smiled as he left, cracking the door.

It took a few minutes for the reality to set in, but when it did, it set in  _hard._

Dan was now pacing the kitchen, occasionally stopping to think but starting back up again.  _Oh. My. God. What am I going to do? Most of the Blue Moon recipes aren't hard to learn but some of them are quite complicated. Ari and Olive would have to learn them on the spot. Can they do that? I'm sure they can. Would they want to? That, I don't know. But if we're all in the kitchen, who's going to be out at the register? Do we really need three people in the kitchen? Wait, they don't have any experience that I know of with the register._ He nearly ran into the island in his storm, jumping awkwardly to the side.  _Wait! Can they even come over? I haven't even considered that. Fuck, fuck fuck-oh my god. Wait._

"Phil!"

The man in question nearly jumped out of his skin as Dan burst out of the kitchen with a clatter.

"Qu'est-ce que tu veux?" He spoke rapidly, a hand to his chest. "Tu m'as fait peur." Dan ran up, nearly slamming his hands on the booth's table, making Phil jump again. He opened his mouth to talk, only closing his mouth again when Phil put a finger to his lips. "Calmez vous, s'il vous plait." He waited a few agonising moments, not moving until Dan seemed to be down a notch. "Quelle est la problème?"

"W-well, Troye is...sick. That complicates a few things." Phil eyes widened, leaning forward. "He's sick?" Dan nodded, splaying his fingers on the tabletop. "He started throwing up this morning. I feel bad, now that I realise I didn't notice anything was off. Usually I do." Out of habit he started to rhythmically tap the table, mind anxiously wandering. "I can call and ask for a few friends to come over, but that leaves no one at the front counter. I'd need to teach them the recipes and make them myself, so..." He trailed off, looking up at Phil before dropping his eyes again.

"I know this is a big favour to ask, and I'm probably not in the right place to say this, but you said you had the day off, and I was wondering if you would be able to-"

"Oui."

Dan's head snapped up, eyes wide. Phil looked equally surprised.  _He answered so quickly. Is he bored?_ "You will?" He responded, pushing thoughts to the back of his head. "Pourqoui pas?" Phil shrugged and smirked. "Ok. Ok. This is much better. Thank you so  _so_ much." He beamed and turned around, running back to the kitchen to snag the other apron off of its hook. He tossed it at Phil with not much of a warning and patted the counter in a passive-aggressive way, signaling Phil to come.

"You know how this works, right? I hope so, you said yes." Dan ran his mouth, not giving Phil a chance to answer. "Technically, we opened maybe...twenty minutes ago, but people normally start coming in around eight. So we have maybe ten minutes or so." Just before he turned around he caught Phil reaching forward to touch the chrysanthemum that still sat by the register. "Hey!" He exclaimed, swatting his hand away. "Don't touch Liam."

Phil snickered. "Liam? Why did you name a plant Liam?"

"Because. Liam is a good name. And Liam Hemsworth is hot." Dan snorted. "I found him right outside the bakery a few days ago. It was weird. But he's here now." Phil made a noise of agreement. "Sure is." Dan adjusted the plant so the flower faced outward. "Ok. I'm going to call my friends and see if they can come over. If they can't...well...I'm going to work my ass into the ground." He laughed in slight panic, eyes darting around. "You'd better do a good-ass job out here. But not too good, I'm not a machine that can just shit out cookies." He slapped a hand over his mouth. "My god. Excuse my language."

"C'est bon." Dan smiled thinly before looking around again, making sure everything was in order. Everything seemed to be fine, except for the untied strings that dangled around his waist. "Excuse me,  _sir_ , but do you not know how to tie an apron?" He motioned violently at the offense. "Uh, do I need to? I don't usually at the apartment-"

"This isn't your apartment," Dan cut him off. "This is Blue Moon bakery." Phil arched an eyebrow, a glint in his eye. "Dit qui?" He challenged, leaning forward.  _Oh my god, I am not putting up with this today. Not enough time._ "Says me." Dan reached forward and wrapped his hands around the strings, forcefully jerking him back against his chest. "Do I need to tie them for you?" He practically growled. "I will."

Phil tilted his head back, staring at him through narrowed eyes. "Soit mon invité."

Dan ignored Phil's honey-smooth tone and tied the strings into a knot, roughly pulling it taut. "Is that tight enough?" He asked through slightly clenched teeth. "I hope so, cause you're going to wear this until we close." The sudden chime of the bell startled both of them, Dan jumping back from Phil. "You know what to do. I'll see you in a few hours." He headed back, dropping into a ball on the floor as soon as the door closed. His face went beet red and he tried to hide it from himself by covering his face with his hands.

"Dear god," he moaned in embarrassment. "I'm not me when I'm anxious."

He didn't stay in his ball for long, forcing himself up to go get his phone, trying to silently tiptoe through the apartment as to not wake Troye.  _If he heard about this he'd never let it go._ Dan sighed and looked at his contacts, scrolling to find Ari's number.  _They should be up, Olive as well. They are flat mates so I hope I can catch both of them._

The ringing of his phone was the only sound that filled his ear for a few seconds until someone finally picked up.

"Dan! Good morning!"

He smiled. "Hey Ari! Um, I'm going to cut to the chase, sorry if you just woke up." Ari dismissed that, saying they'd already been up and out for a run. "Always more productive than me, heh. Um, listen. Is Olive with you?" Ari yelled in to their friend the background. "Yeah, she's just feeding the guinea pigs. What do you need? You always call if you need something asap." Dan shook his head. "You know me. Are you busy today?"

"Not until three."

"Good. Um. Troye's sick. So, I've got a friend working at the register, but I was wondering if you could-"

"Help you in the back? Of course!" Dan sighed in relief, thanking them feverishly. "Thank god, I was thinking I'd have to cover this entire shift by myself." Some pots rattled in the background and he could hear Olive cooing at the guinea pigs. "Hey, we'll eat breakfast and be over there in maybe half an hour. Can you hold out until then?" Dan nodded before realising they couldn't see him. "Yeah. The morning usually pretty slow, so I'll be good. Again, thank you so much." He could practically see them smile over the phone. "No problem. This is what friends do. Well, I'll go and tell Olive. Bye, Dan!" Dan bid them goodbye and ended the call, setting his phone in the bowl usually for keys. He ran a hand through his still-bedhead and took a deep breath.

_Ok, what do I need to start first?_

-

Just as they said, thirty minutes later Phil was poking his head in, telling him he had two people who were asking for him. Flour on his hands (and a little on his nose, he was sure) Dan went out to greet them.

"Ari! Olive! Hi!"

Olive rushed forward and wrapped him in a hug, ignoring the flour all over him. "Hi Dan! Thanks so much for letting us come over and help. We're always glad to." Ari nodded and Dan led them back, letting them set their things on the shelf built in beneath the counter. He let them go into the kitchen while he stopped quickly to talk to Phil. "Everything going good?" He asked. "No harassment, screaming people or rude assholes? Everyone paying?" Phil nodded, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Oui. Everything's good."

"Ok. Just be careful and always tell me if we need to refill something." He motioned to the display. "I'll be going." Phil nodded and turned away, leaving Dan to go back. When he did, Olive had both her hands clamped over her cheeks. "What?"

"Is that who I think it is?" Dan looked confused, so she explained. "The guy at the register."

"Oh! You mean Phil?"

Olive giggled and shook him by his shoulders. "Are you kidding me? How did you get him in here? You never talk to people! I'm so happy!"

"Well, he just walked here in on his own. And he's charismatic and polite and knows how to work a register, so I shoved him upfront." She clapped her hands together. "He's growing up!" She exclaimed at Ari, who nodded, impressed. "A celebrity working for you. Sweet." A knock on the doorframe startled them. "I'm glad you think that, but you’re out of those cherry things." Dan exchanged quick glances with the other two, caught off guard and in the act. "Uh. Sure." Phil smiled toothily and disappeared, Ari clapping him on the back. "Smooth, Dan. Smooth."

"Shut up," he mumbled. "Let's just start." Olive snorted. "Most of the Blue Moon recipes aren't that hard, so I'll give you guys these-" He reached up and took three books down- "And the marked pages are recipes we use here. Just pick a few and read over them, I know you learn quickly. I'll do the more complicated ones. Always go check or ask Phil if you're not sure what we need. Good?"

They both nodded, flipping through respective books.  _Here we go._

_-_

"Do you really have to go?"

Ari and Olive exchanged sympathetic glances, smiling sadly. They had flour all over their arms and Ari had even managed to get some in her hair. "Yeah. We have a meeting we need to head to." Dan sighed, stepping forward to give them a hug. "Thank you for helping anyway. It is much appreciated." They hugged him back and waved, leaving Dan alone in the kitchen, counters littered with bowls and spatulas; cookie trays and measuring cups and spoons. The sink had a pile of dishes stacked in it and splatters of god-knows-what all over the place.  _Usually Troye and I get into a habit of keeping it pretty clean while we work, but I got carried away with them._

He scratched his head, the rough texture of his hair reminding him of how messy it still was.  _I must look like a fucking mess. Then again, who's really seen me today?_ Dan stood in the center, looking a little more than lost.  _Where do I start? Clean, or bake more? Do we even need anything else right now? Think, Dan, think._ He closed his eyes, clenching his fists.

"Dan? What are you doing?"

He jumped, head swinging around to look at Phil, who was standing in the doorway with a concerned expression on his face. "Oh. Um. Just...trying to decide what to do. There's a lot." He glanced around the kitchen again, Phil following. "Ah, well, if it makes you feel any better, you're all good with the baked goods. There's a small crowd here as well." Dan breathed a sigh of relief. "You should probably clean up."

"Yeah. I probably should." He looked around again, then up at the door to the flat. "I also want to make sure Troye's doing ok. I haven't gone up there since this morning." Phil crossed his arms. "Go check on him first, then. You can clean up as much as you want afterwards. Friends matter more."

Dan was only half listening. "But what about tonight? We still haven't planned out what we wanted to make." He started to pace, only to be stopped when Phil spoke. "Dan, don't worry about tonight. It's completely fine if you can't. We'll be ok. Just take care of Troye and get through these last few hours." Dan heard the faint sound of the bell and they both looked to it. "I'm just glad you let me help. I would've sat around all day on Twitter. Not the best way to be spending your days off, hm?"

With that he left and Dan could hear the muted tones of voices through the wall, but they weren't loud enough to drown out his thoughts.  _Phil said it was ok to not make anything, but I really feel like I should. Maybe one small thing._ He pushed those thought away and headed up to the flat, to check on Troye. Everything was still where he'd left it this morning, save for the man that sat under a mass of blankets.

"Troye!" Dan said, crouching in front of him and putting a hand to his forehead. "How are you? Are you feeling better?"

Troye looked down at him from his pile. "Not really sure. I tried to eat once and my stomach decided that wasn't A+ quality." He shrugged. "I'm a little cold."  _A little?_

"Do you feel like you need to go to the doctor, or no?" Troye shook his head. "It's not that bad. Probably just a one-day thing." He sniffed. Dan frowned, staring at him before standing up again. "Text me if you need anything, then." Just before he left, Troye called him back. "What?"

"How've you been? Did Olive and Ari come over?"

"They did. But they just left. Ari said they had a meeting to go to." Troye perked up. "That's good, but...how are you going to manage? We close in two hours but you're all on your own." He sniffed violently, still looking extremely under the weather. "You're going to be the only one working back there! Will you be-" Dan cut him off.  "I'll find a way. Just rest." He left before Troye could argue any more, wanting to get back to the kitchen and try to clean at least some of it.

-

Half an hour later, he had most of the mess cleaned up, a stack in the sink was all that was left.  _I'm quite proud that I managed to do that._ However he only had time to admire his productivity for a minute before Phil was checking in and telling him he had to make more batches of the blue moon muffins and sugar cookies. Dan smiled and nodded, letting him get back to what he was doing.

_It's only two hours. It won't be long._

_-_

Dan closed his eyes, rubbing his hands on his face. Phil sat across from him, typing something on his phone. "Dear god," he groaned. "I did not know it would get that bad."

Phil looked up and laughed. "Moi aussi. Might've been half my fault." Dan peeked out from behind his fingers. "How so?" Phil put his phone down, looking at Dan. "Mm, to start off I'm very handsome. I attract people with this." He motioned dramatically to his face. "Yes, we know," Dan deadpanned. "Get to the real reason." Phil pouted. "But that's the only reason," he tried. "Nope."

"Yep."

"Nope."

Dan finally relented. "Fine. Whatever. I'm too tired for this. You'll have to take your handsome face elsewhere, then. Don't you have a party to host?" Phil ignored his tone and arched his eyebrows. "Attitude much?" Dan smirked, rhythmically tapping his fingers. "Sure. I'm totally not the one who worked my ass off for two hours."

"And I'm not the one who worked an entire day talking to people who tried to flirt with me."

"That sounds like a personal problem."

"Shut up."

Dan sighed as the conversation trailed off again and he debated getting up to go get his phone. Before he could Phil tapped the table, making him look up. "Hey." Dan glanced up to see a phone camera pointed at him. "What?"

"Have you ever considered making macarons?"

"Macarons? Why?" Phil shrugged. "Um, well...Troye's made some before but we never put them out for sale. We could try to though." He gave a little laugh. "Great. I like those. Can you make them one day?" Dan eyed him, still confused at the fast pace he was taking. "Yeah." Phil smiled and put his phone down, typing again. "What was that for?" Dan asked, thoroughly confused. "No reason," Phil answered vaguely. "Am I not allowed to talk to somebody?"

"...No?" Dan laughed, going back to tapping his fingers. "That's fine."

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Dan stood up, pushing in his chair. "I think I'm going to go clean up. You're welcome to stay, if you want. Don't know if I'll be able to talk much." He could feel his cheeks heat up slightly as Phil looked up. "But, um, can I...have the apron?" Phil nodded, standing up and hands going behind his back to untie the knot. "Thank you so much for letting me help you out today," Phil said as he handed Dan the apron.

Dan smiled. "No problem." He took the apron back and hung it back up, turning to the once-again messy kitchen.  _Here we go again, I guess._

-

When he'd finished with the cleaning inside he headed back out, not surprised when he saw that Phil was nowhere to be found.  _I still feel bad that I couldn't make him anything for his little party tonight. I have the time but not the energy._ A smirk curled his lips upwards as he thought, wet rag moving over the tables as he wiped them down.  _If I did have the energy I'd whip up something quick and walk it over. Too bad I don't._

Dan moved from table to table until he was done, giving the chrysanthemum a quick once-over on his way back.

_I hope he has fun._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dan does not and will not put up with phil's flirty shit lmao  
> a thing about phil is that when he gets nervous, scared, angry or startled he will start to speak rapidfire french
> 
> i got extremely distracted towards the end sorry if it seems loose :\  
> french in this chapter:  
> \- qu'est-ce que tu veux: what do you want  
> \- tu m'as fait peur: you scared me  
> \- calmez vous, s'il vous plait: calm down, please  
> \- quelle est la problème: what is the problem  
> \- pourqoui pas: why not  
> \- dit qui: said who  
> \- soit mon invité: be my guest  
> \- moi aussi: me too; me also


	12. twelve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> allrecipies.com saves my life ty ly bb

"Troye?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're all better now."

"Me too. Who knows what you were doing down there?"

Dan gasped, offended. "Hey!" Troye ducked as Dan tried to slap his shoulder. "You know that I did a fine job."

Troye smiled good-naturedly, flicking a drop of batter onto Dan's apron. "I know, idiot. I'm only teasing."

"Good. Cause I think I did hell of a good job. And for a week and one day at that. Give me respect, peasant." He adopted a smug expression only to break down in laugher when Troye flipped him off. "You had lots of help, though. Don't forget to credit them."

"Well, yeah. Kudos to all of my friends. And you, wasting away on the couch, rewatching the entire British Baking Show. How productive." Troye stopped kneading the dough he was working on and sighed, throwing his head back. "You know as well as me that that show is literally one of the only good things to watch these days. Stop trying to shame me. I know that you'd do the exact same thing."

"Oh, you're correct!" Dan exclaimed. "What a great way to spend time. Though, on the third day that you were sick, I really thought I was going to have to take you to the doctor. That was the worst day. I almost closed Blue Moon for the entire day then but Phil and Tyler barely managed to persuade me to not to." Troye looked back, surprised. "Really? You didn't tell me that." Dan shook his head. "I didn't because I didn't want to worry you. But it's been increasingly hard to keep up with everyone lately, since Phil's been up front." He nodded at the door. "Lots of his fans, wanting to ask him questions or take a picture."

"Have you told them what the policy is here? You know we can always call in if it gets too extreme."

"Yeah, but they're really persistent. Not all of them," he rushed, not wanting to clump all Phil's fans into one group. "Just some of them. They've gotten kind of passive-aggressive when I try to explain the rules and they won't listen. I tried to talk to them the other day but I got too anxious before I could get anywhere productive. The actual customers are starting to get annoyed, I can tell, but-"

"Wait. So throughout this whole mess-" He waved his hand in a circle "-Philip hasn't said a thing?"

Dan stopped, staring down at the clump of unmixed ingredients in the bowl.  _He hasn't._ "Ah, now that I think about it, I don't think he has. He just stands to the side, looking a bit put-off and uneasy. I don't really know, I've been busy dealing with all these other problems." Troye turned around, confused. "He doesn't do anything? Just stands there?"

"Yeah. I'm not sure why." When Dan turned to look at his friend he was caught off guard by the angry look on his face. "Well that's one of the stupidest things I've heard. Their his fans, not yours, and he knows about your anxiety, right?" Dan nodded, tearing his eyes away from the suddenly intense look.

"What is his problem?" Troye ranted. "I thought he-" Dan clapped a hand over his mouth, tension in his shoulders. "I'll ask him about it. Right now, just let it run its course. Ok?"

Troye calmed down, turning away from him and back to the dough. "I'm sorry." He muttered. "I'm just worried. I don't want you getting hurt. " Dan turned around too, smiling to himself.  _Protective Troye is something fierce._ "Don't worry," he started. "If it starts to look bad I'll quit."

_Will I?_

-

Now that the day was finally over, Dan allowed his muscles to relax, visibly deflating. "Wow, nice posture," Ryan said as he flicked Dan on the head. He frowned, slightly amused. "Thanks. Exactly what I want to do after a hard day. Slouch."

"Well, have you ever thought about getting a massage?" Ryan's fingers started to press down on his shoulders but Dan swatted them away. "Hell no! I am not exposing myself to a stranger just for an hour just to have them put hot rocks on my back and punch me over and over. That's stupid." Ryan sighed in exasperation behind him. "How would you know what they do? You've never been. It's worth it, trust me."

Dan shook his head, leaning back in the chair with his eyes closed. "Nope. You'll never see me alive in one of those buildings." Ryan laughed, evidently finding it all funny. "If you say so."

They fell silent, listening to Troye clatter around in the kitchen. It all went quiet, then a wet slap as a rag hit him in the face. "Clean." With a disgusted expression Dan peeled it off his face, joining Troye in wiping the tables down. It didn't take them long to finish and when they did Troye was back in the kitchen, thumbing through the top row of books.  _What's he doing?_

As soon as he pulled a familiar-looking one down it clicked. "Oh my gosh, we're doing that today?" Troye looked over at him, smiling. "...Yeah? Did you not remember?" Dan put his hands in his hair, walking in a circle. "I forgot! Oh, are we doing it with Ryan, Tyler and Connor?" Troye dropped one onto the island and went for another. "Mhm. You can have a real bad memory, you know that right?" Dan ignored him and ran out, excitedly shouting to Ryan, who returned the enthusiasm.

"Do you want to text Connor and Tyler while I go get the camera?" Ryan nodded and Dan ran upstairs to get the camera, surprised by this sudden burst of energy. On the way down he spotted his phone, resting on the coffee table. he stopped and stared at it, getting an idea.  _Oh, maybe I can-_

_Bzzt._

He jumped when his phone buzzed.  _Who is it?_

**Philip Lester (@luustr): i know you're probably closed now, but is there anything else you need me to help with?**

An idea popped into his head and he put the camera down, quickly texting him back before heading down and giving the camera to Troye, who was assembling everything they would need. Dan hummed happily, telling Troye that someone else might be joining them, ignoring him when he asked who. Ryan informed him that the other two were on their way over, Dan whispering in his ear that he'd invited someone else over as well. Ryan gasped.

"Really? Who?" Dan opened his mouth to answer but Ryan interrupted him. "Oh. My gosh. Wait. Don't tell me. It's Philip, isn't it?" Dan nodded and Ryan grinned. "Good job, Dan. What'd he say?" Dan shrugged. "I actually don't know. I only invited him, so we'll see if he comes." Ryan sat with him until Troye called him back to help set up a few things. Dan sat by himself then, waiting a little impatiently for the others to arrive.  _It shouldn't take them long. Ryan said they were both near downtown when he called._

Much to Dan's (not) surprise, Connor and Tyler arrived shortly after Ryan had gone back, knocking at the door and waving when he noticed them.

"Welcome!" Dan said, and hugged them both. They returned the greeting, telling him they were excited to finally take part in one of their infamous holiday baking videos. (Notoriously, shit could go down. It has before.). "Ah, no problem. I think Troye and I wanted to mix it up a little this year. He winked and Connor crinkled his nose while Tyler let out a boisterous laugh. "I'll take your word for it."

Dan rolled his eyes, leading them to the back. "Ugh," He nearly moaned. "You are missing out."

Connor shoved him, making him grab the counter to catch himself before he fell. Tyler was still laughing. "Shut up," Connor mumbled, ignoring him and walking into the kitchen, yelling as he disappeared. "You're so weird!" Dan grinned cheekily at Tyler. "I know!"

He had Tyler go back as he waited for Phil.  _Maybe I should go get my phone. What if he said that he can't come, but I wouldn't know because I don't have it here with me? Oh my gosh, I should go get it. But what if he gets here while I'm gone? Troye would ask me a few questions._ He shook his head.  _No, it won't take too long. In-and-out. But what if-_

"Dan? What are you doing?"

Dan jumped and couldn't help the big smile that bloomed on his face as he stared in surprise at the man in front of him. "Phil! You made it!"

Phil grinned back, equally excited. "Of course! I hope Troye doesn't mind." The smile on Dan's face turned uncertain. "Oh. I haven't told him yet. But I'm sure he'll be ok with it. The others are here as well, so we'll have a bunch of fun." They continued to talk, both of them so caught up in their conversation that Dan didn't notice Ryan creeping up behind him. Dan abruptly stopped talking, wondering why Phil looked so mischievous. "W-"

Suddenly hands were grasping his shoulders tight and a voice was yelling in his ear. "Boo!"

Dan nearly screamed, pushing the table and launching himself out of his chair. "What the fuck?!" Both Ryan and Troye burst into laughter, Ryan wrapping his arms around Dan in a back hug. "Hiii. Troye said he's ready to start." Ryan rocked him back and forth, Dan's hands coming up to pat his friends' before shrugging him off. "Fine. Good lord. Don't ever greet me like that again. If you do, I swear I'll-"

"Swear what? You can't fight. Bake me a carmel-peacan cupcake and make me eat it?" Dan thought for a moment, smile twisting his lips. "Sure. Come here." Ryan squealed and dodged his hands, running back into the kitchen for safety, Dan following; leaving Phil standing at the entrance with an amused look on his face. He went back after them, stopping when Troye, Connor and Tyler all looked at him. "Um, salut." Before he could explain himself Dan butted in. "I invited him. Hope that's ok."

Troye looked uncertain for a minute, eyes narrowed. Then his loose smile came back. "Yeah. That's fine. You don't have to not know how to bake, Dan can help you." Everyone looked to Dan, who looked (for the most part) unbothered. "Well..." He asked when the silence dragged out. "Do they know what we're making?" Troye shook his head. "I'll say now. Gingerbread men-" He paused to let Ryan let out a gasp. "- Cake pops and pinwheel cookies. All festively decorated, of course. But before we begin, Dan, will you go get the costumes?"

 _Costumes?_ "What cos- _ohh,_ right! I'll be right back!" He turned and went up to the flat, going through the hallway closet for the box he wanted.  _Ah. There it is._ He got it down, hefting it down the stairs and dropping it on the floor with a dramatic huff. "First come, first serve," He said, snatching two headbands out before stepping back and letting the others go through it. Troye handed him his apron while he watched.

"Here." Dan tossed a pair of simple reindeer antlers with bells at him, putting his own pair on after he tied the aprons knot tight behind his back. "We match." Phil put his on, fingers going through his hair, trying to fluff it up. "Oh, leave it alone. It looks fine." Phil dropped his hands, shaking his head experimentally to listen to the bells ring. "Ah, j'aime bien!" He gave Dan a thumbs up, then turned to Troye as he started to spew instructions. "Ok, places people. Tyler, you'll start the camera and tell us when to do the sync clap so go stand over there; Connor, you go stand over near the door-no-other door-yes, move the box too-Ryan, you crouch behind the island, and Phil." He paused, looking around. "Over there, maybe?" Dan pointed to the area near the ovens. Troye nodded. "Ok. Philip, go stand over there, Dan will tell you when to come in. And Dan, you're fine where you are." He stopped, looking around in satisfaction. "Good. You three-" He pointed at Connor, Tyler and Ryan (who giggled and threw a peace sign) "You all know what to do. Philip, just follow Dan." Phil nodded, relaxing against the countertop.

"Ok." Troye turned to look at Dan. "Usual baking video intro, correct? Greeting, explanation and recitation of rules?"

"Yep," Dan responded, popping the P. "What about the thumbnail?" Troye waived him off. "We'll do that at the end, some crazy-looking one. We need the views." Dan rolled his eyes and laughed. "Shut up. We're doing just fine. But ok. Tyler, you can start the camera now. Stand by Connor when you're done." Tyler stood behind the camera on its stand, fiddling with it before counting down from three. On one they both clapped loudly and started the intro while Tyler tip-toed over to stand by Connor.

"Hi guys!"

They waved, Dan completely at ease from the amount of times he'd been through this.  _Cameras are easier to deal with than actual people._

"We've been absent for a while here, but we're back! And with a..." Dan trailed off and threw awkward-looking finger guns at Troye. Luckily, he was spared of the disappointed lecture he usually had to edit out; this time he only got a glance before Troye launched into the rest of the sentence. "A baking video! And a holiday-themed one at that. With a few extra surprises." He winked and Dan just had to add an extra few words. "Four, to be exact." Troye shoved him gently, keeping his eyes on the camera's lens. "Sure. This video will be a little longer than usual, we've got more planned today. Hopefully the bakery doesn't blow up. If it does, well..."

"Make a bunch of memes about it and remember us well. Thank you and goodbye." Dan snorted. Troye shook his head. "Please don't do that. If you do, I will personally come back from the dead to take you and Dan with me." He arched his eyebrows briefly, planting both hands on the countertop and staring. "That's a promise," He whispered. That caused Phil to break into a short peal of laughter, Dan automatically whipping his head to the side and putting a finger to his lips. Phil covered his mouth, composing himself.  _I'll leave that in._

Troye leaned back, supposedly oblivious to the little things Ryan had been doing the entire time. "Before we start, however, please remember the to respect our business and ourselves. We've said this before but I'd like to say it again." Dan nodded. "I have also addressed this before but please to take into account that we are  _all_ just regular people like you." His eyes flickered briefly over to Phil when he said all.  _I don't want a repeat of 2016._ "If you would like to look at them, the rules and regulations are always down in the description box below." He pointed down, both of them pausing briefly so Dan could cut it later.

"But now, we can get started! Finally. I've been waiting  _ages._ " Troye rolled his eyes at Dan's impatience. "Sure you have. Anyway, today we will be making three things, which is two more than our usual one. Dan, would you like to explain what we're baking today?" Dan jumped on it. "Of course. Today, we're going to make gingerbread men, cake pops  _and_ pinwheel cookies." He held up a finger. "All festive, mind you."

"So, with that, we're going to get started. Assistants?" Troye clapped twice, Connor and Tyler hesitantly peeking in. "I don't know what you want us to do!" Tyler cried, breaking into laughter. Connor awkwardly smiled at the camera, then watched Ryan as he popped up from the floor. However, he lost his balance and fell back, Connor sniggering as he tried to regain his balance. "Idiot."

Troye sighed at the mess they were making and waved them all back, muttering. "Dan, edit that out please." Dan shrugged. "Sure."

Once they were all back in their respective positions, Dan and Troye repeated the last few sentences, this time introducing everyone separately. "We have Tyler-" Tyler came on with his signature flourish and stood by the lump that was Ryan. "Connor-" Without much fuss he waved, dipping his head shyly. "Ryan-" Ryan popped up from his spot on the floor between Troye and Tyler, pouting with both hands in peace signs. "Oh my god," Tyler muttered, shoving him back down. "Stay down there until you know how to behave properly," he joked. Ryan laughed loudly from the floor and stood up, brushing his hands off. Troye turned to Dan, causing the others to look at him as well. Dan swallowed, suddenly feeling slightly nervous.  _God, how am I supposed to introduce him?_

"A-And we have an extra special g-guest today!"  _Anxious habits. Hah._ "Comon." Dan motioned for him to step into the frame. Almost uncertainly, he stepped forward, stopping when he was brushing shoulders with Dan. He leaned forward, bells jingling at every move he made. "Bonjour. Je m'appelle Philip. Ou luustr." He shared a glance with Dan, turning to Troye.

"Ok, introductions finished! We've got all the recipes right here-" He slapped the stack of books. "-So we'll start with whatever's on top."

"Oh, can't relate."

It was Ryan speaking. He rolled his eyes as the others broke their serious personas and laughed themselves into near-tears. Phil mumbled something Dan couldn't quite pick up. Even Troye wasn't immune to the joke, he was laughing a little too. "No more sex jokes, please. You're not even qualified to make those." Ryan wrinkled his nose and copied him in a high-pitched voice, showing the camera the recipe (which was the pinwheel cookies.). "Ok. Put that down." Ryan laid it down. "Now, we have everything already separated and laid out, so no confusion. Dan can get the mixer, Tyler and Connor can go get the ingredients-lay them out here, yes-and Philip can go get the spoons and knives. They're over there." He pointed Phil in the right direction.

"What about me?" Ryan whined. "I don't trust you yet. Go put on some Christmas music or something." Ryan sighed and went off camera to go set it up. With a glance in Dan and Phil's direction he pressed play, the sultry voice of luustr suddenly filling the space. Dan's head shot up, causing him to directly bump into Phil, who seemed equally surprised. Dan looked up, confused at the light redness on the man's face. "It's your own song, why are you blushing?" Phil shook his head, continuing to collect the utensils. "Non raison." He went back over to the island, laying everything out.

"This isn't copyrighted is it? Can we use it?" Phil nodded in response to both questions. "C'est bon." Troye turned back to the camera, explaining all of the ingredients and watching as Dan put the heavy mixer down. "First, you'll need to cream the shortening and sugar, until it has a light and fluffy texture. Add the peanut butter, egg and milk after that." Ryan pointed dramatically to each as they were named. "So, while you're doing that, you can also sift the flour, baking soda and salt together in a separate bowl. Connor, that's your job. Dan and Phil, you can work on the mixer. "Tyler and Ryan, you can..." He trailed off, trying to find something for them to do. "You can either sit and wait or you can help me with melting the chocolate on the stove. Your choice."

They choose to help Troye, everyone now occupied with a task. Though, none are more occupied than Dan.  _Does he not know how to crack an egg?_  "Oh my gosh! Have you ever cracked an egg before." Phil looked flustered, shrugging. "Je ne sais pas." Dan rolled his eyes, snatching the egg from Phil's fingers and smoothly cracking it against the side of the bowl. "That is how you do it." He mockingly bowed as the others clapped, Phil standing awkwardly. "I'll teach you later." He tentatively patted his forearm, focusing his attention back on the task at hand, giving Phil a spoon, a half-cup and jar of peanut butter to work on. "Put it in there, then in the bowl with everything else."

Pretty soon they had everything ready (amidst a lot of banter) and Troye had a ball of dough in his hands, tossing it back and forth. "Now that we've got this ready, we'll wrap it in plastic wrap and let it chill for about...ten minutes?" He looks at Dan, who nods. "That sounds good." Troye stopped tossing the dough, instead letting it hit it countertop with a solid smack. Dan covered his mouth at the sound, ducking away. The others had similar reactions, Ryan rolling his eyes back and Tyler exchanging a glance with Connor. "Do it again," Connor said through clenched teeth as he tried to hold back his laughter. Troye obliged, picking it up and dropping it back down again. Ryan groaned and Dan reached over, picking it up. "Ok, this is going to get seriously demonitised. Save it for after, please." Phil snorted. "D'accord."

Dan decided to ignore him, instead wrapping it up and shoving it in the fridge. "There. No one touch that."  Tyler wiggled his eyebrows and Dan nearly threw his reindeer antlers at him. "Go relax or something." Dan set a timer for ten minutes then sat with his back to the island, head in his hand as he watched the others. Troye was wiping the counters down and Connor was putting the dirty dishes in the sink. Everyone looked content.

-

When the timer went off, Dan dropped his phone, surprised. The kitchen erupted in a flurry of movement, half of them scrambling for the fridge, the other half going for the chocolate on the oven or the island. Troye reached the fridge first and got the now-solid lump and took the plastic wrap off, having Dan bring over the rolling pin. "Roll it out." Dan glanced at his friend, mouth quirking into a smile. "Ok." He put the rolling pin to the dough and pressed forward, Phil suddenly dragging a finger lightly up his wrist. "Ah, vous êtes fort!"

Dan hummed, continuing to roll out the dough in a rectangular-like shape, backing away and letting Troye take center stage with the melted chocolate. He walked off-camera for a moment to put the rolling pin back down, unaware of Phil's eyes on his arm. When he turned around he laughed nervously, staring back.  _What?_ He mouthed, eyebrows knotted in confusion. Phil looked away and shook his head and Dan decided to drop it, both of them watching Troye as he unsuccessfully tried to get Ryan to roll the now-slathered-in-chocolate dough into a log. Connor dismissed him and much to Troye's delight did it almost perfectly.

"We can still make a baker out of you yet!" He handed Connor a long knife. "Now cut it."

-

_Honestly? I should've seen this coming._

Dan sighed at the tray of gingerbread men on the floor. Ryan looked about ready to burst into tears. "Oh my god!" He cried, hands over his mouth. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to, I just lost grip and-" Dan cut him off, bending down to pick the bigger pieces up. "It's fine. We have, what, two more pans?" He looked up at Troye, who nodded. "Yeah. We have more. It's ok." He patted Ryan on the back with one hand, standing back up and throwing the broken pieces in the trash. "RIP gingerbread men. Thank you for your brave sacrifice." Ryan half-laughed, still looking extremely regretful.

"Hey. It's all just for fun. You know we can whip up a batch quickly. Just worry about decorating them now." He gently shoved him behind the island, where they had (over two hours) had finally managed to finish everything. It was all set up nicely now, each type laid out in neat rows with all kinds of edible holiday-themed decorations spread out in front. Dan and Troye ushered everyone together, Dan watching as Phil picked up the forgotten cookie sheet that had still been laying on the floor. Once everyone was in place once again, Troye started to explain.

"Welcome to the..." He looked at Dan, who dutifully finished the sentence. "Decoration station. Whoo."

"Pretty self-explanatory. Decorate these. Best festive one wins." He clapped twice.  _I'll do a cheesy title screen there. Troye will love it._ "You have no time limit. Go." Contrary to his previous statement, Dan sprang into action, grabbing a bottle of green icing and a chocolate-covered cake pop, instantly getting to work. Instinctively, he zoned everyone out, zeroing in on his own work, probably making his signature "I'm working and I will ignore you" face. Halfway into his "intricate" holly leaf someone tapped him on his shoulder, causing his hand to jerk sideways. He nearly whined, jerking his head to face the intrusion.

"What?"

Phil leaned forward, cupping a hand around his mouth. "Can I use the green when you're done?" Dan looked at him. "Um. Yeah?" Phil nodded and turned back to his own work, leaving Dan ever the more confused.

-

"Ok. Who's done?"

The others all looked around, nodding as they finished little details or set things back on the island.  _I swear, I don't think the island has ever been this messy._ "Good. Dan, go get your phone. We'll film it on that." Moments later Dan was back, phone in hand. He opened the camera app as Troye started to speak. "All done! That took way longer than expected. Maybe next time we'll only do two things." He smiled. "Anyway. We'll show you close-ups now." Dan pressed record and moved along as Troye pointed at each one, particularly doting on his own before Dan made him move on. Each one was unique in its own way, good or not so good.

When they'd finished showing Phil's, Dan ended the recording, putting his phone down as Troye suggested that they each try one of their treats. He went for an obscenely-decorated gingerbread man, Phil following Dan and taking a cake pop. Connor hummed in surprise and gave a thumbs up, happy with the resulting pinwheel cookies. Dan took a bite out of his holly-decorated cake pop, eyes briefly flickering to Phil, only to lock and widen in surprise as he watched him stick the entire thing in his mouth, discarding a clean stick a moment later. His eyes flickered down to Dan, who was still staring. He looked away quickly, twirling the unfinished cake pop between his fingers.

"Alright everyone, I believe that's it for today! Thank you all for helping us today. We had fun." Everyone agreed. "We hope you enjoyed this mess and will come back for more." Dan rested his hands on the island as he spoke his part, not noticing when Phil plucked the half-eaten treat from his hand and ate it himself. "Yes. Please do. Feel free to comment or share your own holiday recipes with us, we look forward to seeing them! Oh, let me say something before we go. Blue Moon bakery will be closed from December twentieth to December twenty-seventh for the holidays." He nodded and smiled, letting Troye finish. "Please like this video and subscribe to Daniel here-" He pointed to Dan, then the top-right corner of the screen "- And we will see you in the next video! Keep baking and happy holidays! Goodbye!"

They relaxed only for a few seconds before Troye was calling them back. "We still need a thumbnail frame, let's do this quickly. Do something festive, funny, etc." He waved his hands around and somehow they managed to coordinate, Tyler and Connor posing on the far right side, Ryan slouched on the floor pouting, Troye standing in the middle with his arms crossed and a confident smirk on his face. Dan, unsure of what to do, hopped up onto the island, watching his feet dangle. Suddenly Phil took his arm and draped it on his shoulder, leaning back against the countertop with a shakily-decorated cake pop in his hand. Dan flushed but smiled anyway, not looking at the man beside him for fear of looking like an overripe tomato. Once Troye said they were good, Dan made a beeline for the bathroom, muttering an excuse about having to pee. When he got there he slammed the door closed, face buried in his hands.

_How am I ever going to edit this video?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3/4 of the way through this i got distracted and started to play coolmathgames and if that isn't a mood idk what is
> 
> if you're wondering what phil said when ryan said "can't relate" just let your mind wander k bye
> 
> french in this chapter:  
> \- salut: hi, hello  
> \- bonjour. je m'appelle Philip, ou luustr: hello. my name is philip, or luustr  
> \- non raison: no reason  
> \- vous êtes fort: you are strong  
> 


	13. thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm half going off descriptions of the airport that's in my city so the description may be off a little
> 
> kind of ends abruptly cause its like 2:30 and im literally falling asleep sitting up

The last thing Dan expected when he woke up to his aggressively buzzing phone in the early morning hours of December 21 was Philip Lester asking him to go to the airport with him.

But here he was, and Philip Lester was asking him if he could go to the airport with him. Which confused him to no end.  _I suppose I could,_ he thought, squinting at the bright screen, still not fully awake.  _But why?_

He sent a message back, probably containing quite a few errors, considering his state of consciousness at the moment. Dan threw his phone down next to him, faceplanting into the pillow and trying to fall back asleep, groaning when he couldn't and his phone buzzed once again.  _God, Phil, you're great and all but asking me to come to the airport with you at god-knows-when in the morning on my break isn't the best move._

Instead of ignoring his phone again he heaved himself up onto his elbows and went back to their conversation, trying to make sense out of it all.  _As a baker, I should be used to early hours, right? Stupid break has gone and fucked me up._

**Philip Lester (@luustr): pretty please~ i need help carrying a few things :(**

Dan leaned forward, immediately regretting it as the light burned his eyes. "Where the hell are you going that would require you at- _5:00am_ in the morning?" Dan laid back down, stretching out and letting his phone rest against the wall. He closed his eyes, unsuccessful trying to fall back asleep one last time.

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): fine. where do you want to meat?**

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): meet. i meant meet.**

He could practically hear Phil laugh at his mistake. Dan briefly closed his eyes, waiting for Phil to respond. When he did, Dan glanced at the location and committed it to memory, quickly telling him he'd be there soon before letting his phone fall onto the pillow while he shoved his face into the pillow again, groaning out loud.  _Why did I even agree to this?_

After a few more minutes of moping and procrastinating getting up he dragged himself up, yawning loudly. Right now he could care less about what he put on, just as long as there was some shade of black. (Which wasn't really a problem, over half of his closet was the one colour. He was proud of it.).

After only a few minutes of staring vacantly into his closet he managed to put an outfit on, black ripped jeans with his all-time favourite jumper, a loose-fitting, wide-necked black and white striped one.  _Good enough,_ he thought; skipping his face and hair routine entirely, too tired to bother. He took his phone, wallet and a set of keys as he left, unlocking the door from the inside and stepping out into the chilly cold of London in late December. At five am there wasn't much going on, a few people going or leaving from an early shift or heading home from a well-hydrated night on the town. He made a quick stop at a coffee shop he knew was open, ordering a large hot chocolate and two muffins, completely passing over the fact that he could've done all of this back at the bakery.  _Oh well. I'm allowed to treat myself once or twice every now and then._

Phil had texted him again on his walk to the café, telling him he'd be waiting in the lobby of his flat complex with all of his stuff, to which Dan had texted back a panicked "Will I have to talk to the guy at the front desk again?? He's kind of scary". Phil had then said that no, he already knew and he wouldn't have to exchange a word. Maybe a quick hello, though.

It wasn't very long before he arrived at Battersea, remembering the route he and Troye had taken weeks before. This area of London was even quieter,  _on their breaks as well,_ he supposed. Dan made his way past the other buildings, arriving at Phil's quickly and taking a long sip of his drink before walking through the automatic sliding doors, eyes scanning the lobby until he found Phil.

As he'd said, he was there, sitting in his all-too-perfect glory. Which left Dan wondering how the fuck he managed to look so perfect this early in the morning.  _That's not fair._

Phil was busily typing on his phone as Dan approached, slouched in a chair. He stopped in front of Phil, taking another sip of his drink before greeting him. "Hey."

Phil looked up, startled. "Oh! Dan! Pardon, I didn't see you there."  _Must've been pretty important then, huh?_ Dan stared back down, trying to understand how he was so alive and awake. "Are you even real?" He murmured, catching Phil off-guard. "Um. Yes? I hope so. I quite like my life right now." Dan's mouth curved into a small smile as he watched him get up. "Mm. Here. I got you something-" He held out one of the bagged blueberry muffins, at the same time that Phil held out a large bouquet of flowers, obscuring most of his face.

"Ah-Wha-Who are those for?" He managed to sputter, bringing his outstretched arm back in close to his body. Phil pulled back a little as well, nose shoved in a sprig of Baby's Breath. "These are supposed to be for my family, but I don't know if I'll be allowed to take them on the plane. If I can't, then, I don't know where I'll put them." Dan mentally shook himself out of his stupor, mouth back to blabbering. "W-Well, you could just leave them in front of a window with some water in your flat or find someone to give them too. But I'm pretty sure you can bring flowers on a plane. Without the water." He was rushing his words by the end.

Phil looked over at him, then at the two small bags held tightly in his hand. "Did you want to say something before I interrupted you? Pardon." He dipped his head, watching Dan. "Oh-Um-I-I just wanted to give you this." He shoved the package in front of the bouquet. "It's a blueberry muffin from a café down the street. I was hungry and lazy and I figured you were too, so...I got an extra."

Phil made no moved to take it, which made Dan start to fidget. "It's ok though if you don't want it, I'm sure Troye will. He's a hoe for blueberry muffins." Phil was silent for a moment longer before finally taking the bag from him. Dan breathed an internal sound of relief, clutching tight to his near-empty hot chocolate.

"Merci, Dan. I haven't eaten yet but I feel pretty good. Woke up at three-" Dan choked. "Three?! How the hell do you wake up  _that_ early and  _still_ look good?" In his surprise he registered that he hadn't meant to say it out loud but Phil threw his head back and laughed loudly. "After years of a schedule like this I've gotten used to it."

"Used to it?" Dan shook his head, taking on a pitying tone. "Sad." For a moment he wished he could take it back, he didn't want to come across as jealous or angry. Luckily the playful glint in the other mans' eyes stayed as bright as ever. "Maybe." He handed the bouquet of flowers to Dan, who took it with hesitance. Phil then handed him a small bag, Dan hooking his fingers over the handle. "Where are you taking all this?"

Phil bid goodbye to the receptionist before answering Dan's question. "Paris. I'm going back to see my family for a week or two before coming back. I haven't spent time like this with them in maybe...a year? In short, I'm happy to be seeing them again." He looked away, smiling. The cold air swirled around them as they exited the building and walked out into the still Battersea area. "I'm sure they'll be happy to see you too. A year is a long time, but then what can I say?" Dan laughed quietly, focusing on his shoes and the quick steps he was taking.

"What does that mean?" Phil sounded confused. Dan didn't answer right away.

"...Nothing."

Phil stayed quiet for a little while, eyes occasionally flicking to Dan, who avoided them. "Well, I booked a taxi. They'll be arriving near here soon." He stopped suddenly, flinging out an arm to stop Dan from walking into the road. He backed up, shoving his nose in the flowers and keeping it there, trying to avoid Phil's searching eyes.  _I just had to go and ruin it, didn't I?_

Minutes passed as they waited, the awkward silence gradually turning into a more comfortable one. Dan had taken his nose out of the flowers, instead looking around, shifting from foot to foot. "How often do you get to see your family?" He blurted, looking the other way. Phil checked his phone again, presumably for the arrival time of the taxi. "These days? Honestly...not very much. I'm too busy most of the time and my family is often off on vacation to some place or another, so even if I'm in Paris or my hometown there's a fifty-fifty chance that they aren't there. I still make sure to keep in touch with them, though. My brother will visit me from time to time."

Dan nodded as he talked, looking straight at him for the first time in almost half an hour. "You weren't born in Paris?" When Phil shook his head, a little warning in his eye he backed off. "I always assumed you were born in Paris."

"People like to assume a lot of things about me," Phil spoke quietly, tone slightly cold. "Though, in time, you get used to that too,"

Dan's thoughts stopped cold at Phil's answer, mouth opening and closing as he failed to find something to say.  _Maybe silence is okay._

-

The taxi was a late but Phil said it was ok, his plane didn't leave until around nine. As they drove through the ever-lightening streets Dan let his head rest against the window, empty drink cup in his hand. Phil was on his phone next to him, muffin balanced on top of the bag it came in. He looked over, staring at the muffin what was in his lap, forgetting about Phil until he snapped his fingers twice in front of Dan's face.

"Bien?"

"Oh! Sorry. Just...dozed off a little. Still tired." He yawned loudly, trying to make a point. "Never wake me up and ask me to go this early anywhere ever again." To his surprise Phil started to laugh, shoving him with one hand back into the window. "Hey. You can't say anything, you're the one who agreed and said you'd go. You didn't have to come." Dan rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the logic in Phil's words, though he ended up with Phil endlessly teasing him for it and a pair of matching light-red cheeks.

Eventually Dan fell back asleep, not expecting for the ride to be so long. In one of the few moments that he was awake he'd asked Phil how long it was, to which the answer had been "About forty-five minutes." He'd sighed and fallen back into a light doze, once feeling Phil tug at the bouquet for a few seconds but not caring enough to wake up and ask him what he was doing.

"Listen," he mumbled, eyes half closed. "I'm probably not much fun right now. Sorry about that." He heard Phil laugh. "D'accord. I like that you're awake enough to tell me that though." Dan's lips turned into a small half-hearted smile, a sudden shiver running through him. "Es-tu froid?" Dan barely shook his head but Phil took it for a yes, fabric shifting for a few seconds before he draped a long, soft piece of fabric over him. Dan sighed, grip on his empty cup relaxing. They didn't talk the rest of the ride but Dan was pretty sure he heard Phil humming a song from his first album, he wasn't sure which one though.

After what felt like only seconds Phil was shaking Dan awake, Dan muttering and trying to shove him away. Phil tugged his hand away, holding it above his head. "Dan. We're here-oh, excusez-moi? Ah. Terminal five, s'il-vous plaît. Merci."

Dan opened his eyes to the Heathrow Airport, surprisingly busy for around six in the morning. People and cars were all over the place, like hundreds of little ants.  _Who knew an airport was so busy at six in the morning._ He turned to Phil, equally enamored and terrified. "What?" Phil asked, not understanding Dan's reaction to the airport. "It's so busy," he breathed, eyes wide. Phil laughed. "Yeah. Airports are always busy, no matter the hour. Heathrow especially, it's a major international airport so it's bigger and busier than other or domestic airports. Atlanta, Los Angeles, Seoul and Singapore have huge ones as well." He leaned over Dans' shoulder, watching. "Have you never been to an airport?"

"No. I've never flown, not even domestic. Never been out of the country. Haven't had a need too, with everyone I know so close. It's kind of nice, but sometimes I wish I could fly at least once. Not much reason for me to do that, though." He stopped, then continued when Phil didn't break his silence. "We often spend so much on the financial shit for the bakery and just daily living, so it's not like we have thousands of spare pounds to throw about. We like to...spend wisely, y'know?" He looked back and Phil nodded. "I quite like it where I am."

Phil hummed, completely understanding. "International flying can be quite expensive, but you'll sometimes catch a cheap one." He sat back as the terminal number went from three to four. "You'd have to time it right, honestly. Prices go all over the place." The car slowed down as Terminal Five's entrance came into view, all metal and glass and huge concrete columns. Metal poles were spread in front of the glass doors, a bright sign advertising some sort of expensive perfume. "Terminal 5" glowed in blocked white letters above the automatic glass doors, yellow stripes painted on the ground. A thin but steady stream of people went in the airport, Dan only moving when Phil opened his door to get his suitcase out of the trunk.

Dan stepped out too, Phil's bouquet and long-empty cup still clutched tightly in his hands. After a quick run over to one of the trashcans he walked back, reaching in the taking Phil's two smaller bags out of the taxi. He closed the door and caught up to the other, who was standing with suitcase in hand. "Here." Dan wrapped the strap of one around the suitcase's handle, giving the other one to Phil. "It shouldn't be too hard to get everything from point A to B now." He stood, holding a staring contest with Phil until he gracefully plucked the bouquet from his grasp. Phil then brushed his fingers through the flowers, stopping on a flower with long, pale pink petals and a darker center. He separated it from the rest, handing it to Dan with a little wink.

"Un peu merci. Pour la route."

Dan took the flower, holding it to his chest. "Ah-thank you," He managed to spit out, Phil smiling at his response. "Merci beaucoup for helping me."

"At five in the morning. Yeah. Not sure if I want to do that again, though."

"Oh, Dan," Phil laughed. "They'll be more times. Trust me." And being the (secretly) smitten man that he was, he went on with it, finally saying goodbye to Phil, who then told Dan that he'd be back around the thirtieth. "Au revoir, Daniel. See you soon." Dan waved, watching as he walked through the doors and into the terminal, disappearing around a corner. Surprisingly, the taxi was still waiting where they'd left it, the driver spotting Dan and waving him over.

"Your friend paid to give you a ride back to downtown. Hop in and I'll take you back."

 _Oh thank goodness, I thought I was going to have to take a bus or something. No telling who'll be in those._ He thanked the driver, climbing in the back seat and watching Heathrow get smaller as they drove away.  _Troye's going to ask me some questions,_ he thought, fingers idly tapping the petals on the flower.  _Eh. It was worth it._

_-_

"Dan! Where the hell have you been?"

As he expected, the moment he stepped in the door Troye was all over him. Dan stopped, letting him flit around and give him a mini pat-down before he even opened his mouth.

"I was with Phil."

Troye blinked, then smiled, wiggling his eyebrows.  _Fuck, I didn't realise how wrong that sounded._ He hurriedly tried to backtrack. "Uh, no, not like that, let me explain-"

"Philip Lester? At six forty five in the morning?"

A new voice from behind Troye sounded confused. He peered around his friend and saw both Olive and Ari. "E-Excuse me? You too?" Dan groaned. "Let me explain. Nah-ah-" He cut Ari off as they tried to speak. "He asked me to help him bring some things to the airport. He's going to see his family for Christmas. And it was at five, not six forty-five. Thank you for your time."

Dan tried to doge Troye impending drill of questions and slip away but Troye caught his wrist, holding him in place. "Hey. Where are you going? I have a few questions." He pulled out a chair, motioning for Dan to take a seat. When he did Troye sat opposite, leaning forward on his knees.

"Tea? Spill."

Dan sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I don't have a choice, do I?" Troye shook his head, smiling mischievously. "Spill. Of course I want to know where you've been since five am, and why with Phil, of all people?"

"Well, I don't exactly have anyone else to go anywhere with, especially at five am," he sputtered. "Like I said, he needed help carrying things to the airport. That's all." Ari and Olive joined Troye in nagging playfully at Dan, squeezing him like a kitchen sponge for answers he was probably going to give sooner or later. "Well, what's with...this, then?" Troye tapped the flower Dan had gripped tightly in his hand.  _Ah. I was wondering how long it'd take him to ask about that._

"Phil gave it to me. A thank-you gift." Troye arched his eyebrows, looking extremely interest. "Oh, did he now? Please, do explain." With the straightest face he could muster Dan told them a (slightly) edited version of the flower. "He had a bouquet with him he carried while I carried some other things, and he gave me the flower as, like I said, a thank you."  _I hope that's believable._ "Why are you wanting to know all this, anyway? I'm pretty sure you were asleep most of the time." Troye stared at him, hopefully buying the story. "I'm just curious, what my best friend is up to, especially with someone he's looked up to and followed for years. And, have you noticed..." Troye's gaze flickered down to the flower, then back up at Dan's wide eyes. "...That he's been, hm, flirting with you?"

Dan did have something to spit back but at this confession all the words dried and withered in his throat. Olive and Ari gasped, then broke into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. They excused themselves back to the kitchen, saying they were going to calm down and let Troye talk to him (eavesdrop, more like it). Dan watched them go, then turned back to Troye. "No, he isn't." Troye looked unconvinced. "I beg to differ-"

"Nope. Not listening to it." He stood up, pushing his chair in. "He's not. He's my friend." Troye looked at him, a slight dash of pity in his eyes. "Well. Ok. One more question, though. Did he  _really_  need your help, or did he just want to see you?" Dan didn't answer, only smiling unsurely. "Um. What do you mean?" Troye didn't answer, only looking at him. "Yeah. What about it?" Troye started to stand up, an expression that he couldn't quite read. "Never mind." Dan stood, watching in confusion as Troye brushed past. "We're going to head out for a few hours. You want to come if you're not too tired."

"No, no, I'll go. Just give me a minute." He breezed past Olive and Ari, who, as he expected, were huddled in the kitchen. The jumped back in surprise as he went by but he didn't pay any attention to them, just continued heading up the stairs. The flats' lights were on, probably from Troye forgetting to turn them off once again. Dan headed straight for the cabinets, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, gently dropping the large pink flower in.  _There we go._ He turned the glass around carefully, examining it once more before bringing it to his room and setting it on his nightstand, right next to his clock.  _Maybe I should bring Liam up here too._ He yawned, remembering he had places to be.

_Ah. I'd better get ready._

-

Dan was heading out the door with his friends just fifteen minutes later with a freshly-washed face and hair. Troye and Ari flanked him, Olive skipping on ahead, loose floral shirt fluttering slightly in her wake. Dan wasn't exactly sure what they were going to do but Troye said the first order of business was food. He didn't tell Troye about the muffin he'd had, thinking it wasn't too important.  _What he doesn't know won't kill him, right?_

They ended up making a quick stop at the  _same fucking café_ that Dan had been just two hours before, the barista doing a double take before seemingly losing interest. Ari chose a table by a fogged-up window, the others gradually joining them as they each received their orders. Troye looked to be the hungriest out of all of them; he'd picked out an oversized pastry of some sort, a chocolate chip cookie and a large of some type of tea. Dan, having eaten something earlier, only got two small cookies.

They didn't really talk as they ate, everyone too focused on their food to do much of anything else. When they did finally finish, most of them went immediately to their phones, Ari drawing in the condensation on the window with a finger. "Look," they laughed, pointing to a bad drawing of themselves. "How do you like it?" Dan put down his phone and clapped sincerely, telling them it was better than anything he could ever draw. "I second that," Troye said, a hint of knowing in his tone. Dan reached over and slapped his head. "Shh."

After that they left quickly, Troye claiming that he wanted to get to "The Shops" before it got busy and all the good stuff was gone. (Which was a scenario Dan highly doubted for any shop.)

The Tube today was as crowded as it usually was around eight in the morning, leaving enough room for Troye to hover protectively next to him with not much extra. Dan  _still_ wasn't sure exactly where they were going but he trusted his friend, and said friend said that it'd take around ten minutes for them to get where he wanted them to go for the first stop, so Dan braced himself for an awkward ten minutes.

When only about five had passed, his phone buzzed with an incoming notification. He debated getting it out and checking but he didn't know who was behind him and at the moment he was a little too anxious for comfort so he decided to stay put, unable to scratch the mental itch that bugged him to get his phone out and check. He stood there impatient for the rest of the ride, exhaling when they finally arrived. He snatched his phone, a quick smile flitting over his face as he saw the all-too-familiar name.

**Philip Lester (@luustr): made it home safe to paris! looks pretty over here, it's cold though. hope you're doing well**

**Philip Lester (@luustr): [ video attachment ]**

Dan clicked the video, watching as Phil panned the camera, moving over a cityscape that was bustling in the light morning sun. In the background he was talking softly in French,  _supposedly to a family member_ , Dan thought.

**Dan Howell (@danielhowell): wow. that was much faster than i expected. paris looks nice btw**

**Philip Lester (@luustr): the trip's usually around an hour and fifteen minutes, plus air travel throughout countries in the EU isn't that hard.**

**Philip Lester (@luustr): it might look pretty on camera or maybe with ten different filters, but right now it's looking pretty bad. weather-wise. or maybe i just don't spend enough time here.**

Dan wasn't sure exactly how to respond to that, so he just sent a smiley face and pocketed his phone, checking to make sure he was still with the others. They were laughing and joking and Dan couldn't help feel a little left out, so he sped up and joined them, a smile rapidly painting itself on his face.

"Troye, do you mind telling us where we're going?" Dan recognised the street and buildings but he still wasn't exactly sure of where they were being led; Troye was notorious for his 'slightly'-off sense of direction. "Just to a few different shops that I know have some limited-edition things I want to check out, or some things you might find interesting. Who knows." He shrugged, satisfying Dan with his answer, who was now walking a little less blindly. 

The first store they stopped at was an art store with all kinds of colouring books and pencils and other baseline-art things, witch really set Ari and Olive off on a hunt for blood. They were both avid artists, most of their works being abstract and blocky in style. Dan loved it, he had a smaller one hanging above his floor- to-ceiling  mirror, a boat on calm water surrounded by a multi-toned blue sky. It was pretty.

Dan and Troye managed to find two colouring books they liked, Troye paying for them both. Ari and Olive ended up in a heated discussion about paint until Dan grabbed the offending shades and put them back on the rack, shoving them both in opposite directions. "I don't know why you two were arguing, those shades looked exactly the same. Or am I just seeing the world a different way?" Dan stopped himself right there, before he could inevitably spiral into a mindset where he questioned anything and everything possible. Olive and Ari did finally agree on a few things, both leaving the store with bags of their own. Dan had his book tucked neatly in the crook of his arm.

"Have you done your Christmas shopping yet?" Troye asked Ari as they walked down the sidewalk. Troye gasped and Dan braced himself for the worst. "What?! That is inhumane." Dan stepped faster, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "They'll buy them when they're ready. Just worry about you, Christmas boy."

The rest of the walk to the next stop took longer than it should've, with Olive and Troye stopping every five feet to take a picture, often enlisting Dan's help and expertise. After a while he got tired of it and pushed the title to Ari, who looked betrayed. "Dan! I'm shocked." He just held a finger to his lips, overexaggerating a careful-walk and tiptoeing away, only to come back moments later. "You know I'd never leave." Ari shook her head, agreeing. “Troye wants to go to Melbourne, though. He wants to go see his family, but I heard it was expensive.

Ari nodded. "Yeah. Flights are almost always more expensive this day. A little extra back won't hurt most people."

"I supposed it won't."

-

All together, they went to five shops and two cafés, each loaded down with their own things (Dan mainly had candles in his bag.  _Candles didn't talk back, or leave you on read, or break up with you. All they do is sat there and burn. It's quiet nice, when you think about it. Well, for me at least_. 

They were now at an outside seafood restaurant, soaking up the rare streak of warm weather that would probably disappear within the hour. They'd ordered a few minutes ago, the usual sharp flash accompanying Dan. He sipped at his water, unsure of what to say to the quiet table. After ordering is when they tended to talk the most.

"How did the holiday baking video go? Who was in it? Did your fans like it?"

Dan turned to the voice. "It went very well, for the most part; Connor, Tyler, Ryan, Troye, Phil and I were in it; and yes, they loved it. Favourite one yet, for both fans and nosey, gossipy celebrity news outlets. Let's just say I'm a lot more popular then I once was." He laughed awkwardly. Olives eyes widened. "Oh? Nosey news outlets? Please, do tell."

"Not much to say. You know how they are, and with Phil being different than most there's an extra spotlight on him. Especially when you throw a nobody like me into the mix. Don't try to tell me I'm not; compared to him I might as well be nothing. Phil deserves it though, he's good at what he does." Dan took a long sip after his short rant, then pushed on. "I'm worried people are only following me just because of him. And I'm not worried about follower numbers, I just get the feeling that it's not right, like I'm mooching fame and followers off of him. Not sure how he thinks about that, he's stayed pretty quiet on it."

"Maybe you should tell-" She broke off as the waiter came over with two plates balanced on their arms. "-Maybe you should tell him how you feel about this. Someday. No today," Olive added hurriedly. "Whenever is good. But if you want to stay friends with someone like him, someone of his status, acknowledge the different life style and possible consequences. There. That's all I have to say on that, right now."

"That's fine," Dan said, leaning back in his chair. "I know, I probably will talk to him sometime soon. Maybe after winter break. I don't want to bother him." Olive waved a hand, tucking the fabric covering her head back behind her ear. "Hush. You'll be fine. You've always had a way with words in certain situations." Dan smiled bashfully, eyes stuck on a single blade of grass that was growing in the concrete's crack underneath the dappled shade of the table. "Have I? I just like to think that I'm always anxious, and for that my mind goes into hyperspace and I end up spouting some bullshit or another."

"No. You're so dumb, Dan. You're much more wonderful then you make yourself out to be."

The waiter came around again, depositing the final two plates onto the table, one in front of Dan, the other in front of Ari. Dan didn't respond to Olive's last comment, just stabbed his fork into the creamy shrimp dish he'd ordered, a treat from his usually-vegetarian food.

_Am I really wonderful, just so stupid I can't see it? Or do I just refuse to see it? Am I still holding onto the edgy danisnotonfire branding. Oh, ew._

He physically shuddered and shoved that thought out of his head.

_Never._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof i never remember how to spell scarf in french
> 
> french in this chapter:  
> \- pardon: sorry  
> \- bien: good  
> \- es-tu froid: are you cold  
> \- excusez-moi...s'il vous plaît...merci: excuse me...please...thank you  
> \- un peu merci. pour la route: a small thank you. for the road/route  
> 


End file.
